To Sherlock Holmes she is always the woman
by Lil-Green-Leprechaun
Summary: <html><head></head>When Watson's baby sister comes to 221b Baker Street, a whole new set of cases and problems envelope the trio of Holmes, Watson and Bonnie. Will they work it out together or are somethings just too much for the detective? Holmes/OC - M for later chapters.</html>
1. The Letters

**Ok here I'm having a crack at Sherlock holmes/OC story, please can people let me know if the like it? cos if you don't I'll just scrap it. It might take this is basically just an intro chapter. Oh the title of the story comes from 'Scandal in Bohemia' one of my favourite Sherlock Holmes stories.**

**Disclaimer: As much as I'd love to own Sherlock and Watson, and other affiliated things. but unfortunatly I dont, they belong to the genius that was Arthur Conan Doyle.**

Dear Bonnie,

I'm glad to hear you are recovering well from the flu Aunt Ellen told me about in a letter earlier this winter, she told me not to worry about you, but you know how much I worry, I very nearly packed up my bags and medical supply to come to your home and care for you myself, but Aunt Ellen assured me you were under the capable care of Dr Vickers, and that you would be right as rain in no time, Which it appears you are.

The reason I am writing to you my dear sister is that Aunt Ellen also tells me you are getting restless in the countryside and wish to visit London, where your dear childhood friend Maria migrated in order to get married earlier this year. And I am offering you a place to come and stay for a while if you so wish, to visit your friend and experience London life. If you would like to take up my invitation, please let me know in advance, but you are welcome any time. I will be delightful to see you again; it has been too long little sister.

All my love, your devoted brother

Dr John Watson

P.S. I should warn you, my companion can be hot headed, bad tempered and difficult, but with a little patience I hope you can see past his bad habits.

Bonnie smiled as she read the letter over breakfast with her Aunt Ellen and Uncle George. Letting her eyes skim over the words once more she reached out with one dainty hand to her full glass of orange juice but missed, sending the glass spinning across the table staining both her light blue dress, and the crisp white cloth over the breakfast table. "For heaven's sake child! Watch what you are doing! And put that blasted letter down, its causing more hassle than it's worth. Go and clean up, and change your dress, it will be ruined." Her Aunt Ellen almost shouted coming quickly to her feet, and grasping a rag from the pantry sideboard, attempting to blot the orange juice from the table, her brown and grey hair coming loose from her bun with the quick movements. "Stop fussing Ellen, the girl can clean herself up, and the table can wait, Martha can clean it when she gets here." Uncle George said barely lifting his eyes from the paper he was reading, as he reached for a slice of buttered toast from his small china plate. "Aunt Ellen I am very sorry, it has just been so long since I have seen and heard from John. I will just go and change my dress. I will send Martha in if I see her on my way up to my bedroom." Bonnie said meekly folding the letter and placing it into the pocket of her apron, and curtsying slightly as she left the room her high heels clicking rapidly as she made her way across the polished wooden floors, bumping into Martha the maid on her way to the large staircase almost knocking the metal pail of water from the other girl's hand. "Oh, Miss Watson, I'm sorry, I didn't see you." Said the young servant, as she stopped, placing the bucket of the ground. "No harm done Martha, it was my fault really; I wasn't looking where I was going. Oh and could you do me a massive favour and clean up the orange juice I spilt in the kitchen, I had a bit of an accident." She smiled sheepishly indicating her now orange covered dress. "Nothing to worry about Miss Watson, I'll go and do that now. And you get along Miss; you will need to change your dress." Bonnie smiled and quickly hugged Martha earning a light giggle from her, before hurrying her way up the stairs.

Bonnie quickly changed out of her blue dress, dropping the soiled garment into a dishevelled heap at the foot of her bed and pulled on a dusky pink dress with deep pink silk rose details across the low neckline, and skirt. Poking her head out of her window she saw her friend Tobias in the courtyard of the next door house feeding and tending to his horses. "Toby!" Bonnie called poking her head out of her window; "Toby!" the blond man looked up from combing the horse's hair, and waved, a big smile on his face. "Mornin' Bonnie what can I do for you?" Bonnie waved the letter from her brother around in the air. "John wrote to me today, If I write a reply could you see he gets it for me? And book me a hansom cab to go to London on Saturday? Please?" Tobias nodded and told her he would collect the letter from her in an hour, after he had washed up and was ready to leave. "Thank you Toby, this means a lot to me." She called and closed her window once more making her way over to her old oak writing desk, where she began to pen a letter in return to her brother.

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><p>"A letter has arrived for you Dr Watson, delivered by a young man in country wear." Mrs Hudson said as she smiled warmly placing the letter down next to the doctor's plate, as she avoided the cold, hard gaze from the detective who sat beside the fire in the plush rocking chair he had occupied all night, a pipe dangling from one limp hand and china cup of tea clenched in the other, as he watched her suspiciously, "Thank you Mrs. Hudson" Smiled Watson genially as he split the envelope open, and unfolding the paper inside, his eyes tracing over his sister's dainty script.<p>

My Dear John,

Thank you so much for the letter, and yes, I can assure you I am much better, though I fear if Aunt Ellen is to continue feeding me so much, as is her claim that it will make me better, I will become the size of a barrel. But I think a change would be nice, as much as I love our dear Uncle and Aunt, they are driving me to the brink of madness. So I would gladly like to take up your offer of coming to stay in London with you for a while. I had my friend Toby, who kindly delivered this letter to you; book me a Hansom cab for Saturday, giving me three days to get ready to visit you.

Thank you so much for the invite big brother, I can't wait to see you again! It truly has been too long.

All my love,

Bonnie xx

Watson smiled and folded the letter, placing it into the pocket of his waistcoat and readying himself to stand from the breakfast table, when he was addressed by Holmes, who hadn't even turned his head to look at him as he spoke. "A letter from a lady Watson? A young one at that." Watson sighed and looked at the ceiling in despair, "Yes Holmes, she's my sister. She coming to stay with us for a while, she was just letting me know that's her plan.

Holmes' eyes widened as he turned to stare full on at his companion who was leaning heavily on his walking cane. "A woman? Here? Absolutely not." Watson simply shook his head and left the room ascending the stairs to his office. "She's coming Holmes, you have no say in the matter" Holmes opened his mouth to protest but closed it again, realising he was alone, and there was no one to hear him complain.


	2. Miss Bonnie Watson

**Hello All, I hope you like it please review ... then I know wether I should continue! thank you for reading my story!**

**Disclaimer: I dont own anything Sherlock Holmes related, just Bonnie and any other guest OCs**

Recap:

"She's coming Holmes, you have no say in the matter" Holmes opened his mouth to protest but closed it again, realising he was alone, and there was no one to hear him complain.

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><p>Bonnie sighed as she wiggled on the uncomfortable bench seat of the hansom cab, her hands gripped the sides of the seat nearly splitting the silk of her expensive white and lilac wrist length gloves. "Ow! John why do you have to live so far away?" she muttered to herself, as she shuffled about, trying to keep herself upright as well as the four expensive hat boxes that were piled high next to her on the seat. "5 minutes till we reach baker street mam." Called the driver, making a wave of relief run through her body, as she grabbed her compact mirror in an effort to make herself presentable to her brother and his companion. She grimaced as she looked into her reflection taking note of the travel worn dark patches below her big brown eyes that told her she needed to rest, her normally porcelain pale skin had turned almost transparent and stray dark curls were protruding from under her lilac bonnet that matched her dress and gloves. "Hmm, John is going to think the worst when he sees me like this!" She mumbled as she put the compact away and readied herself to get out as her cab ground to a halt in the bustling chaos of Baker Street.<p>

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><p>"Doctor Watson, I believe your sister is here, a cab just arrived." Mrs Hudson called as she knocked on the doctor's door. Watson crossed to the window, excusing himself from his patient watching a young woman dressed in a lilac dress with a matching lilac bonnet and a white shawl pulled taught around her shoulders descend down the makeshift steps as the Cab driver unloaded two navy style trunks and a collection of hat boxes.<p>

"Mr Jones, I'm going to have to end our appointment now I'm afraid. Just go to the pharmacy and get this prescription filled out. You should be free of that insomnia in no time. Just remember to take 1 an hour before you go to bed." Watson ushered the man out of his office before hastily pulling on a coat and rushing out of the front door to meet his sister. "Bonnie!" he called as his feet hit the bottom set of the steps, making the tiny brunette spin around to face him. "John!" she squealed rushing to him and throwing her arms around him in a big hug. "Are you visiting or moving in?" he asked with a smile eyeing the trunks and hat boxes that cluttered the pavement around their feet. "Oh, John, you know what I'm like, I've never been able to pack light. It used to infuriate Inigo remember." She said with a smile as she took her brothers arm, allowing herself to be led up the stairs. "Yes, but I thought living with Aunt Ellen would have snapped you out of that habit." He laughed closing the door behind him, leaving Bonnie to look around the vast hallway, admiring the dark wood of the staircase and the beautiful paintings on the ornately decorated walls. "This house is beautiful." She commented sweetly. "Thank you, would you like a cup of tea Miss Watson?" Asked Mrs Hudson as she joined the pair in the hallway, as Watson removed his sister's shawl hanging it up on the coat rack beside his. "Tea would be a splendid idea Mrs Hudson, Will Holmes be joining us?" Watson asked as he led his sister to the drawing room and sitting her down on the long red and gold sofa. "I certainly hope not Doctor; all he's done today is bash and crash about muttering to himself. I went in to collect his laundry and all he did was shout and accuse me of poisoning him again. You should be glad I have nerves of steel Doctor, or I wouldn't be able to cope with him. I'll just get that tea."

Bonnie raised her eyebrows at the homely looking land lady's strong accusation and the way the words were spat with venom. Watson seeing the slightly unnerved look on his younger sister's face took her hand reassuringly with one hand while leaning his cane against the chair he was sitting in with the other. "Is she always that unhappy?" Bonnie asked sliding her boots off of her stocking covered feet and tucked her legs up underneath her in another awkward attempt to get comfortable and abandoning the idea of maintaining the look of 'a lady of wealth and society' Watson quirked his eyebrows at her action, it reminded him of when they were young and she would sit like that, often being told off by their parents for it. "No, no, she's usually quite happy. Unfortunately Holmes is going through a particularly difficult patch; he makes it very hard for her. Poor woman." Bonnie just nodded and thanked Mrs Hudson as she placed a silver tray onto the table in front of the siblings. "Mrs Hudson, if you are taking him some tea up, could you let him know, I'll be with him shortly please? I need to speak with him." The old lady nodded her head and withdrew calling "As you wish Doctor" as she disappeared from the room.

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><p>"Right I really must go and talk to Holmes, my dear; I shall only be a short while, I'm sure there are things around here to amuse you in my short absence." Watson said standing and brushing down his waistcoat as he kissed Bonnie's hand and left the room. The young woman sighed not liking to be left alone; she got up and padded barefoot into the laundry room, where Mrs Hudson was washing clothes over a giant metal tub. "Mrs Hudson is there anything I can do?"<p>

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><p>"Holmes, I hear you've been making things difficult for Mrs Hudson. This wouldn't have anything to do With Bonnie's presence would it?" Holmes looked indignantly up from the gun he was turning over constantly in his hands. "No, why would it? It of course would NOT inconvenience me to have a woman living in my quarter's dear Watson." The detective said sarcastically placing the gun down, and replacing it with his pipe. "She will get under our feet and cause nothing but chaos Watson, mark my words." Watson shook his head and slammed the end of his cane down onto the desk beside Holmes making him jump. "Holmes, she is my sister! I will not have you talking to her that way. You underestimate her. You will find her a very interesting young lady." Holmes snorted and shuffled through some paperwork on his desk. "Do you have a case?" Watson asked trying to get closer to see what Holmes was reading. "No, I'm not on another case." Watson nodded and made his way back towards the door, "Ah, so you're free this evening? For dinner?" Sherlock moved to stand defensively, his height being elongated by the way his unruly hair was sticking out at all angles, and his smoking jacket wrinkled around his body. "Of course." He said curtly, trying quickly to get off the subject. "At the Royale, at 7, don't be late Holmes. You need to meet my sister. And make sure you look Smart." Holmes opened his mouth to shout after his companion, but closed it again, infuriated that Watson had already left.<p> 


	3. The Dinner

**I'd just like to thank Fury of the Acheri for adding my story in story alerts! Its nice to see someone likes my story! Please review guys, I like to know what you think! enjoy this chapter!**

**Disclaimer: Once again, I dont own anything Sherlock Holmes, Just Bonnie and any other OC Holmes does not encounter in the books or movie.**

"Really John? The Royale? I've not been there since we were young!" Bonnie exclaimed as she looked at her brother through the reflection of the mirror she was sat at, having laid all her personal items out on the small wooden dressing table in the spare room of 221b Baker street. "Mmm Its Mary's favourite. We've become quite regular there." Bonnie cast herself back to her reflection, drawing a thin line of black khol beneath her dark brown eyes making them stand out against her skin that her eyes had returned to its natural colour thanks to the few hours of sleep she had managed to sneak into her first afternoon at the beautiful london town house. "I cant believe you never told me about Mary, John. You should be ashamed." She said jokingly as she stood from the velvet covered stool and grabbed her bonnet from the bedpost and pulled it on gently, tying a bow beneath her chin. "Are you ready to go my dear? " Watson asked holding his arm out for his sister to take as he led her out of the room.

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><p><strong>Holmes<strong>

Sherlock Holmes sat alone in the expensive resteraunt his hair combed back neatly and his clothes clean and straight. He let his eyes glide across the busy room, picking up every small detail that would be missed to any untrained eye, but he took note of everything, the young woman two tables away conspicuously feeding the food off of her plate to the small dog sat her feet, the waiter stood by the gold staircase trying to tame his hair in a mirror, and the fat old gentleman in the corner who was ignoring his wife to leer at the young woman at the next table's exposed clevage. Watson's voice interupted his visual interrogation of his surroundings, and he snapped his attention up to the man before him. "Holmes you're early again." The doctor's voice rose slightly in surprise, even though his face remained perfectly serious. Holmes flashed him a sarcastic smile and rose to his feet preparing to greet his new companions. "Watson" he greeted with a nod, his voice coming out as smooth as velvet before turning to Mary and kissing her out stretched hand, "Mary my dear, its lovely to see you. I hope you are well." Mary curtsied and smiled sweetly, "I'm well, Sherlock, Thank you." Watson coughed, once again catching Holmes' attention as he straightened back up. "Holmes, I'd like you to meet my baby sister Bonnie." Watson nudged the young woman who was hidden behind his shoulder, and she stepped forward letting the detective take in her appearance.

Holmes sucked in a breath as he observed the young woman before him, her long dark curls escaping from an expensive looking pink bonnet, and her body clad in a very fashionable light pink dress with a lace train, but his attention was drawn to her pretty face, finding it a hard task to pull his eyes away from her bottomless brown eyes, and plump rose bud lips. "Good evening my dear, I don't quite understand why it has taken Watson here so long to introduce us." He said, bowing and kissing her now gloveless hand "Would you take a seat madame?" he asked, guiding her towards the empty chair beside his leaving Mary and Watson to seat themselves.

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><p><strong>Bonnie<strong>

Bonnie sipped daintily at her spoonful of soup, trying hard to maintain the 'manners of society' that had been drummed into her head as well as listening to the lively banter going around the table between the other three dinner guests, who had covered basically every topic under the sun from Mary's job as a governess to John's thoughts on the latest medical discoveries and had finally settled on Sherlock's talents as a detective, the man in question remaining quite quiet only answering when he was asked a question, his brooding dark eyes flitting around the room as if uncomfortable about something. Bonnie, kept looking at him from the corner of her eyes, taking in the features of his face and the rugged stubble on his jaw, making him look dangerously sexy in her eyes. Bonnie inwardly scolded herself for such thoughts but couldnt drag her gaze away from his face.

"Really Bonnie, he did it to me, completely worked out everything about me, with just one look." Mary said animatedly, as she sipped from her glass of wine. "Why don't you do it for Bonnie Sherlock?" Holmes shrugged his shoulders gently and turned to face Bonnie, "Only if Miss Watson allows it, I will happily do it." He said gesturing with his hands. Bonnie placed her spoon down in her empty bowl and turned to face Sherlock, her hands folded in front of her on the table, waiting for him to tell her what he could see in her from just one look. "Holmes, I don't think thats wise, I remember the result of you doing this for Mary." Watson protested, feeling uncomfortable but he was cut off by Bonnie's hand being laid gently on his arm, "Really John, I don't mind I think it will be interesting."

Sherlock sniffed and leaned his elbows on the table his gaze stripping all of Bonnie's insecurities away as he stared, "Miss Bonnie Watson, you are in you're late 20s, I'd say around 27, like your brother you weren't born into money, but you have gained it through your years, and you were sent to a training school for young ladies to school you in ways of being a 'fashionable lady of money' You look uncomfortable in situations such as this" he stated clearing up how he had gotten to that conclusion. His eyes trekked down her body taking in her appearance, "You are facinated in fashion, especially with hats and bonnets, judging by the four hat boxes piled up in our living room and the fashionable cut of your dress, which again states you have money as it has been tailored to fit you, perfectly too, may I add" he complimented charmingly, making a blush rise to Bonnie's pale cheeks. "However, you don't often like to be over feminine, which contradicts the strict ways of fashionable society. You were engaged, but You're fiance met an early demise." He said pointing to the light band of skin on her ring finger, Watson tensed across the table suddenly getting incredibly protective of his baby sister. "I'd say he was an important member of the military, because you look up to your brother so much you would have looked for a man like him, and of course the Navy trunks you're luggage arrived in this morning, that still read 'Capt. Inigo Walsh' on the brass top plates."

Sherlock paused, feeling it was time to stop his investigation seeing fresh beads of tears lining her big dark eyes. "I feel I should stop here, I can see the matter distressing you, and I do not wish to be covered in wine again, once was quite enough." Bonnie sniffed, pushing back the tears, and smiling strongly at his now concerned face, "Very good Mr Holmes, all is correct. And do not fear that any talk of my dear Inigo will hurt my feelings, he passed nearly two years ago, while serving in the navy. I have let myself grieve and find it is time to move on, I do not wish to dwell in the past." She said running a few fingers subconciously around the space where her ring used to be. Holmes opened his mouth to praise her on her view of the situation, but was stopped by a uniformed policeman jogging up to thier table, his chest heaving with the force of his run. "Mr Holmes, Dr Watson, Ladies" he greeted with a nod, bending to catch his breath, "What is it Clarkey?" Holmes asked sharply his eyes narrowing to study the puffing man. "It's Constable Wicker sir, he uh," the constable looked to the two women at the table, trying to think of a way to dull the message down at to not offend the ladies, "He was found hanging sir, with a letter to you and the good doctor sir, I must insist you come with me at once."

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><p><strong>Hope you liked it! Here are some links to Bonnie's clothes etc. if you'd like to see them ...<strong>

.com/albums/zz1/Lilxgreenxleprechaun/Sherlock%20Holmes%20Story%20outfits/?action=view¤t= **- Just click the next button to see all 5 images**


	4. Girl talk and Clues

**Hello All! wow it seems like my story has suddenly gotten popular! yay! cookies all round! Anyway I'd like to thank Deathcab4kimmie , Vampire Solidarity1 , itsadowneyworld and TayLoed39 for either favouriting or adding my story to story alert! Thanks guys! And a thank you SPEEDIE22 and Fury of the Acheri for reviewing! its great to hear what you think! and while I'm here im ust going to throw a shout in for my Iron man story if anyone wants to take a look ...**

**Disclaimer: I would own Sherlock and Watson if I could ... but unfortunatly, I dont ...**

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><p>"Ladies, would you excuse us? It appears we have an emergency to get to." Holmes said getting to his feet and sliding on his coat that was handed to him by a waiter that had seemed to materialize from nowhere, "Come along Watson, it seems someone wants our attention." Watson sighed and stood, bending to kiss his sister and fiancé on their cheeks, "Please forgive us ladies, I will pay the bill on my way out, stay an enjoy yourselves. And please get a cab home, and do be careful. We shouldn't be too late back." He said directing the last part of the sentence to his sister who nod,ded and search through her hand bag, checking she had the key John had given her to 221b Baker Street.<p>

"Does this happen often?" Bonnie asked Mary as she took a small sip of her wine once again, waiting for their main course to arrive. Mary sighed and tucked a piece of blonde hair behind her ear absent mindedly, "Not all that often, but still more than it should, but it's something that comes with their occupations and fame here in London." Bonnie almost choked on the fruity red wine, "John is famous here? I'd never have thought. Our contact has been strained over the past five years. So everything I hear is like new to me." Mary smiled kindly at her, before picking up her silverware, spearing a carrot elegantly with her fork, "Oh yes, everyone around here knows of the incredible cases solved by the Great Sherlock Holmes and his faithful Companion Dr. Watson. They like to keep a low profile though, not many people know them by appearance, only by name, they like to keep the quiet life, which I am thankful for." Bonnie nodded, chewing her own vegetables delicately, but her she remembered what Mrs Hudson had said earlier about the detective, and choosing her words carefully voiced her curiosity, "Mrs Hudson does not seem to think 'quiet' is a word to describe Mr Holmes." Mary choked back a small giggle, but her eyes gave away her urge to laugh. "Mrs Hudson wouldn't, that poor woman has been to hell and back with Sherlock. He might seem charming to you now, Bonnie dear, but he has some fairly appalling habits that make him difficult to live with. I'm not sure how John deals with it, all his mood swings, strange disappearances at night and that dreadful cocaine habit, no wonder he drives the poor woman mad." Bonnie listened in silence nodding her head, but something told her to give Holmes the benefit of a doubt, she could make up her own mind on him in time.

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><p>"Where is he then Clarkey?" Sherlock asked impatiently as the trio made their way through the dirty and broken down streets of London, walls of buildings dripping with green water, a distinct smell in the air and shop doorways crowded with poor and hungry homeless families. "Just two streets away Mr Holmes, Lestrade found him on his way home from the yard. Said I had to fetch you at once sir." Holmes nodded as they rounded the corner and stopped abruptly in front of a uniformed policeman, who was hanging from a street lamp. "You finally get here Holmes." Lestrade commented making his way over to the pair, "Yes, well, we were otherwise engaged." Said the detective bending to examine the pavement beneath the body, getting as close as he would to the stone. "The letter is addressed to you two, made any enemies recently?" Lestrade mocked, pulling the envelope from the dead man's coat and handing it to Watson, who leaned heavily on his cane as he read letting his eyes skim over the text. "What does it say Watson?" asked Holmes who had gotten to his feet and was now rifling through the dead man's pockets, looking closely at any items he could find through a magnifying glass. "It doesn't say who it's from. It just says 'Death is only the beginning.' Very odd." He put the paper back into the envelope and turned toward Inspector Lestrade "He will need to come down for me to take a proper look at him."<p>

"We are in the process of bringing him down now Dr Watson." Lestrade said nodding to his men w ho were stood nervously looking at one another on the other side of the street. "Hmm" Said Sherlock Holmes, standing and taking his place beside Watson once more. "Exactly what stage of bringing him down Lestrade?"

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><p>"So what did you find Holmes?" Watson asked as the pair made their way through the darkened streets of London back to Baker Street. "There was a boot mark in the mud of the gutter, judging by the size I'd say it was a man with feet at around size 9, wearing round toed boots, possibly military like your own, The mud splattered on Wicker's uniform was also heavily laden with salt, indicating it was mud from around the docks. There were strips of the rope on the ground beneath him, showing he was winched up the lamppost with some difficulty, meaning our murderer was either short or has a weaker stature." Watson nodded and limped up the steps to their house, the events of the evening having been too much for his old leg injury, and opened the door attempting to be as quiet as possible as it was late and he didn't want to wake Bonnie or Mrs Hudson.<p>

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><p>Hearing the key scraping in the front door's lock , Bonnie looked up from her book, the living room only being lit by a single candle flame, sending a yellow light over the pages. Hushed voices at the bottom of the stairs alerted her that her brother and Holmes had arrived home. Closing the book , she placed it on the small mahogany table by her chair and made her way as quietly as possible to the top of the staircase, her nightdress swishing and her bare feet tapping on the wooden flooring as she walked. Stopping at the top step she watched the two men below her in great discussion over the night's earlier events.<p>

Holmes stripped his coat off and hung it on the stand beside the door, "What can that note mean? I swear I've heard it before." Whispered Watson as he too shed his outer layer. A small cough caught the attention and both men looked towards the stairs where Bonnie was leaning against the banister, one slender hand gripping the wooden railing, and the other resting on her hip. "Bonnie dear, I was sure you'd be asleep, it's late." Bonnie nodded and yawned, using her hands to push some loose hair away from her face, and attempt to tighten her loose French plait. "I was reading, I didn't realise the time. Did you find anything with the hanging policeman?" The question was directed to Sherlock, but he was unable to reply, his eyes fixed on her beautiful face. He realised he was staring and coughed shaking himself free from his stupor. "Nothing inconclusive, but a few things that can help us in our investigation." Bonnie nodded and stretched tiredly, "Well if there is anything I can help you with, please let me know. Goodnight." She said with a smile as she made her way back to her bedroom, leaving Holmes and Watson in the dark hallway.


	5. That Damn Violin!

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**Disclaimer: I only own my ocs, the creation of Holmes and Dr Watson is from the genius mind of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.**

'This must be that habit of playing violin at all hours Mary mentioned.' Bonnie thought to herself, as she raised her head from her pillow to glance at the gold carriage clock on the mantelpiece across from her. The elegantly carved hands ticked slowly round and told her it had just gone past 3 am. Slumping back down in a lazy manner she listened to the mournful sound of Holmes scraping his bow across the violin in an absent minded gesture, the sound was definitely unlike any tune bonnie had heard in all her 26 years, yet she still found the noise soothing. Even though she tried, she found sleep had completely left her the instant she started to concentrate on the scraping notes. Sighing she swung her legs out of the comfort of the duvet covers, a sharp hiss of surprise leaving her lips as her feet touched the cold wooden floor. Being careful not to bump into any furniture as she made her way through the darkened room, and slipped silently out of her door, leaving it open in her wake.

She twisted the bronze knob on the living room door, and noiselessly pushed the heavy panel open and poking her head around it, her gaze sweeping over the candlelit chamber, and settling on the dark haired detective slumped in an old velvet armchair who was looking towards a battered old book open on his knee, while his hands idly played with the violin, sawing the bow back and forth over the strings. A small smile found its way onto her lips as she observed the scene before her as she moved into the dimly lit room. She softly closed the door behind her, but the barely audible click made Holmes look up at her through his dishevelled curls, his big brown eyes burning into her own. "Did I wake you Miss Watson?" he murmured his voice staying low, adopting a smooth, velvety tone that made Bonnie's toes curl, and butterflies swirl about in her tummy. "Not really, Mr Holmes, don't worry. What are you playing?" She asked as she settled in the chair next to the detective, tucking her feet up underneath her and resting her head on her hand. "Nothing in particular, it purely helps me to mull things over in my head. But if you'd like I can play one of your brother's favourites, I often do so. It is the only way he puts up with my idle playing." Bonnie smiled and nodded, watching as Sherlock raised the violin to his shoulder, and start to play a lilting orchestral piece.

Bonnie clapped as the detective stopped playing and laid his violin on the table beside his chair, and resting his elbows on his knees, and steepling his fingers, by his face. "Did you find anything interesting on your case?" she asked, she had always been interested in things of that nature, always doing mind puzzles or reading detective novels. "I'd like to help you as much as I can Mr Holmes, I don't intend to just be here and get in your way." Holmes felt a smile inch its way onto his lips. "I assure you Miss Watson, if I can find a way for you to help with my investigation; you will be the first to know about it." He watched her pretty face as she daintily yawned and snuggled down in the red velvet cushioning of the armchair. "You look tired Miss Watson, you should be sleeping, and I'm assuming you have a busy day tomorrow, Watson tells me you have an appointment with your friend Maria." Bonnie nodded and let her eyes flick to the giant clock on the mantelpiece, where the hands had ticked round to half three. "I've not seen her since she left to get married in April, That's the reason I was so restless in the country, 8 months with only the company of my aunt and uncle, I needed some new company, or I swear I'd go mad." She chuckled stifling back a yawn and running a dainty hand over her face. The detective too let out a short dry laugh, and stood from his chair, striding soundlessly over to the sideboard where he placed two crystal tumblers and grabbed a decanter of amber liquid, casually asking over his shoulder "Would you care for a night cap Miss Watson?" Bonnie thought for a moment, she hadn't had Brandy since Inigo died and she was found slumped against a tree in the garden of their dockside house, a little worse for ware, but she pursed her lips in determination thinking the alcohol would do her good, helping her to sleep. "I would normally have a particular aversion to Brandy Mr. Holmes, from past experiences, but as sleep seems far away perhaps it would do me some good." Holmes' shoulders shook again in a silent laugh as he poured a measure of the amber liquid into each of the tumblers. "An aversion to brandy you says? Well, it's a good thing this is Whisky, I don't tend to drink brandy either my dear." He said adding water to the glass before making his way back over to the chairs, handing her the tumbler.

As Bonnie took the glass from Holmes' hand the genius detective's fingers brushed accidentally against hers, sending little electric shocks through the slim appendages, and she looked up into his never ending deep brown eyes, her knees wobbling and butterflies erupting in the pit of her stomach. "Thank you Mr Holmes." She whispered, her voice barely coming out, as she lifted the glass to her lips. He nodded and returned to his seat, "I have not seen my family in many, many years, but I have no need for them. I have my studies and cases to tie me over. I can never let things register on an emotional level. I immerse myself with work, my mind rebels in stagnation. But sometimes the work just isn't quite able to cut it." Bonnie nodded, that time completely unable to hide the yawn and wave of tiredness that swept over her small body.

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><p>Bonnie smiled as she stood looking out of her window watching the morning hustle and bustle of London, there was a soft knock at her door distracting her from the busy landscape below, "Come in." She called, making her way back over to her dressing table, pulling her hair into a delicate French twist and securing it with some bone hair grips, leaving a few loose curls to dangle onto her neck and forehead. Mrs Hudson pushed open the heavy door and poked her head around the frame, a soft smile old her kind face. "Breakfast is ready Miss Bonnie, I thought, perhaps, you'd like to take it downstairs with the doctor?" Bonnie nodded and hopped to her feet, following the land lady down the stairs and into the parlour where the table was laid with various breakfast things from tea and toast to plates of breakfast meats. Her brother was also sat in an armchair, his top hat only visible over the top of the newspaper he was reading. "Good morning John." She said sitting at the table and pouring herself a cup of tea and picking up a triangle of toast, nibbling quietly on the buttered surface. "Good Morning Bonnie. Did you sleep well?" Bonnie smiled to herself remembering her late night chat with Holmes in the living room. "Yes, I did thank you John. Did you?" Watson closed the paper and sipped at his tea, "I slept well enough thank you dear, when you are seeing Maria?" Bonnie swallowed her own mouthful of tea before answering, "She is coming by at around 11, I believe her husband will escort her on his way to work, we will be going for morning tea and scones at the Royale." Watson nodded and stood brushing himself down and folding the paper beneath his arm. "Very well my dear. I shall be in my office should you need me, I have a long list of patients to attend today." Bonnie stood from the table and grabbed her book sat herself comfortably in the seat her brother had just vacated.<p>

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><p>The shrill ringing of the doorbell made Bonnie look up from the pages of her book. Her dark eyes flicked up to the face of the old grandfather clock, her eyes taking note of the time, she could vaguely hear Mrs Hudson as she spoke to the person at the front door, and the click of her high heels as she entered the living room an envelope in her hand which she promptly handed to Bonnie.<p>

The younger woman tore open the envelope and let her dark eyes roll over the red inked words, any colour draining from her face as she let a small scream leave her lips and her small shaking hands drop the letter, the paper fluttering to the floor.


	6. Old friends and Ominous Letters

**Hello All! I would just like to thank everyone who reads this story and just beg you a bit to review, and tell me what you think. I'd especially like to thank SPEEDIE22 for reviewing my last chapter! Hope you enjoy guys!**

**Disclaimer: Unfortunatly, I don't own Watson or Holmes ... although I would like to!** **but I do own Bonnie, my lovely OC.**

"Good Lord Doctor, was that a woman screaming I heard? It sounded like the scream came from your pantry, Doctor? ... Doctor?" said Mr Willis, Watson's patient as he turned to look for his doctor, but his eyes only met with a flung open door, the panel still swinging on its hinges where Watson had thrown it open quickly, darting down the stairs as fast as his injured leg could carry him. "Oh ... it must have been a scream." Grumbled the old man, unfolding a paper and settling himself, trying to block out the loud commotion in the room below him.

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><p>Sherlock Holmes was reclined in his favourite chair, wrapped in a dark red smoking jacket, his pipe held firmly between his lips and his nimble, thin fingers flicking through an old, worn book that was resting on his raised knee, when his ears picked up on the sharp sound of a young woman's scream, shortly followed by the loud bang and uneven footsteps hounding down the stairs. He closed the book with a slam, a dust cloud rising from the pages, and hauled himself up from his chair, curious at the cause of the sudden uproar, propelling himself down the old staircase, hastily, but with less speed than his faithful companion had, just moments before. His heavy boots echoed on the stone floor as he entered the pantry, his eyes swept the room taking note of the occupants and the objects in the room, from Watson stood by the fire, an angry expression on his face and his hands shaking as he read a note that was clenched in his fist, to a very motherly Mrs Hudson trying to sit Bonnie down in a chair, whose beautiful face was strained with tears and her eyes were red, and had a shaking, dainty hand pressed to her lips. The young woman's shock was shown clearly in her deep brown eyes and her hair that had gone from being in a neat French twist, to having sections falling out at all angles. "Miss Watson you look positively shaken up." He said a slight smirk on his face. Bonnie looked at the detective from under her thick, black eyelashes, her dark pupils looking unusually wide and round from her fright and gave him a small, ghost of a smile, showing she appreciated Holmes' attempt to bring her some comfort.<p>

"Take a look at this Holmes, its most irregular, and downright threatening." Watson said with a scowl, passing his friend the letter and taking a seat beside the fire, his grip on his cane so strong his knuckles turned an alarming shade of white. "Watson, if you sister is indeed in danger, the best place for her to be is here, where you and I can keep careful watch of her, don't you agree?" Holmes said as he too sat in a chair beside the fire, his eyes scanning over the hand written words.

_Miss B Watson_

_The years have treated you well … It is time that pretty face saw destruction. I will tear down your world as you once tore mine._

_Yours truly_

"Interesting" mused Holmes as he read the unfinished sign off, "This person obviously knows you well Miss Watson, or at least thinks they do, as they did not see fit to sign the note off, wanting to remain anonymous." Bonnie just nodded and shakily sipped her tea waiting for Sherlock to carry on, "In the light of this note, I fear it is unsafe for you to venture out alone. I am aware you intend to go out for morning tea with your childhood friend Maria today, but I'm afraid it's just too risky for you to go alone. I will accompany you, if you are willing?" Bonnie smiled, happy that she would get to see her old friend and happy because Sherlock was willing to give up his time to make sure she was safe. "I would be very grateful if you would do that Mr Holmes, I haven't seen Maria in so long." Holmes nodded and let a soft smile find its way onto his lips, folding the letter and placing the piece of paper into his waistcoat pocket. "Indeed, I must go and clean up a touch, and Watson, I believe you have a patient upstairs, You won't want to keep him waiting any longer, I promise you your sister is safe in my hands."

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><p>"Thank you for escorting us Mr Holmes, I'm glad you're doing all you can to keep our lovely Bonnie safe." Maria said as she poured tea into the three china cups, having to raise her voice slightly over the noise of the busy restaurant. Holmes closed his notebook and looked over the top of his round sunglasses at the two women in front of him, Bonnie on his left dressed in a plain dark blue dress, her hair pulled back into the neat French twist she had started with this morning, and Maria on his right, dressed in a pale yellow dress and her long red hair piled up beneath an expensive pale yellow hat. A large diamond and gold band adorned her left ring finger; showing all around her she was married and happily so. The detective pursed his lips momentarily, pondering at his reply, "It is my pleasure Mrs Carter. I'm sure my dear friend, her brother, would have something to say if I allowed any harm to come to her." Maria smiled sweetly at batted her eyelashes at him as she took a dainty sip from her cup, "All the same Mr Holmes, It means a great deal to me that you are doing so. Poor Bonnie has been through enough." Holmes inclined his head, in a vague imitation of a nod, once again opening his book, letting his eyes run across the page's scripture. The two girls looked at each other over their tea, and the bubbly red head smirked, setting her cup down, and directing her gaze back up to Holmes. "Mr Holmes, Would you excuse us a moment? We need to nip to the powder rooms." Sherlock looked up at the two women who were now standing and nodded. "Be safe; scream if you need my assistance." The statement was directed to Bonnie, his big dark eyes burning into her own, causing a rosy blush to creep its way up onto her normally pale cheeks.<p>

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><p>"Oh, Bonnie, that man really is something else. So strong and silent … handsome too, oh and that brain! The man is a genius." Maria gabbled animatedly as she puffed a light layer of powder onto the bridge of her pretty, freckled nose. Bonnie exhaled a breath sharply through her nose and let a small smile find its way onto her lips. "He is a genius, a twisted, genius. He's cold though, it's rare for him to show emotions. He has some bad habits, but he makes butterflies swarm in my tummy." Bonnie confirmed, looking up into her childhood friend's eyes, who was giving her a knowing look. "Give it time, Bonnie; he'll come round to you." She said giving Bonnie's hand an affectionate squeeze, before glancing at a small ivory clock on the wall, "Come on, we better be getting back, Its nearly time for us to leave Warren should be here to meet me soon, and that handsome detective of yours will be wondering where you are." Bonnie shook her head and followed her friend back out into the dining area muttering "He's not my detective." Under her breath. The door to the powder room sung shut behind them, just long enough for a dark, cloaked figure to step out from one of the cubicle's they had been hiding in, listening to the two girl's conversation, and watching Miss Bonnie Watson intently.<p>

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><p>"Sherlock l just wanted to thank you for today. I've missed seeing Maria dreadfully. I only hope it wasn't too boring for you to keep our company?" Bonnie said hovering in the door way of the living room her brother and the detective were currently residing in. John brought the paper he was reading down enough for him to look at his companion over the pages. Holmes removed his now smoking pipe from his lips and regarded the young woman, with a never ending look, his brown irises sparkling, showing Bonnie he was in the frame of mind John referred to as his 'playful mood.' "It was my pleasure, Miss Watson, I do enjoy taking tea at the Royale, they have a unique strain of tea especially imported from India, and I find it quite delicious." Bonnie frowned, her eyebrows creasing together and her pretty rosebud lips parting as if words were about to leave her mouth, but had got lost from her voice box along the way. She swallowed swiftly and nodded, "I'm going to help Mrs Hudson in the kitchen." She said, her voice barely audible, but a layer of hear clearly noticeable in her small voice.<p>

Watson watched the door close behind his baby sister and turned towards Holmes, and angry expression on his normally placid face. "There was no need for that old boy, my sister was only thanking you for you kindness. There was no need for you to brush her off like that." Holmes took the pipe from his mouth and turned his cold, calculating gaze onto the doctor. "I was merely jesting mother hen. Your sister needs to learn to take my humour." John, outraged at his friend's words slammed his cane on the floor in an unusual display of anger. "Holmes, I insist you apologise to Bonnie. She does not deserve you baiting her." The detective sighed and stood from his chair moving swiftly towards the door, grabbing a coat on his way out. "I mean it Holmes!" Watson shouted after the retreating detective's back.


	7. Unwanted Compliments

**Hello All! thank you for supporting my story still, im glad you like it. Here's the next one ... but I warn you, from here on in, its going to get pretty heavy! ha ha! Special thanks to SPEEDIE22 AND Lady Wesker for reviewing! thank you guys! :)**

**Disclaimer: Unfortunatly I don't own the deductive genius! I just like to drool at him! xx**

Bonnie wiped a dainty hand across her forehead removing the thin layer of sweat that had formed from working in the hot kitchen. "Oh thank you for your help dear, it was greatly appreciated. Could you call the good doctor and that … that infuriating man … who has been oddly quiet for the past few hours… for dinner." Mrs Hudson said with a weary smile, helping the younger woman remove her now dirtied apron. "No problem Mrs Hudson." The tiny brunette said, making her way out of the kitchen, chuckling quietly to herself hearing the older woman mumbling away to herself about a storm brewing outside.

Bonnie knocked gently on the living room door and waited for her brother's muffled call of "come in" before pushing the heavy panel and poking her head into the toasty room, a look of surprise etched into her face when she found John sat alone in the room reading a book by candlelight. "John dinner is on the table. Where is Mr Holmes? I have to let him know too." The doctor slowly stood from his seat, heavily leaning on his cane, and limping towards her, "Holmes isn't here Bon-Bon, he left some hours ago in a temper. The great detective does not like to be called on his social misdemeanours." Bonnie felt herself scowl and crossed her arms over her chest, annoyed that her time had been wasted. "But Mrs Hudson and I worked so hard on this dinner all evening! I just wanted it to be a thank you to you both for helping me." She turned away, fighting back a few tears that made her eyes and nose sting. "Wait … John, did you just call me Bon-Bon? You've not called me that since we were young." She smiled gently, pushing the tears back and her heart swelling in her chest as her brother reached her and wrapped his arms around her in a strong embrace and pressed a kiss into her now messily held back soft hair. "Don't worry about Holmes Bon, I'll enjoy the dinner you've worked so hard to make." He grabbed her hand and led her back into the dining room, complaining about how the smell of freshly cooked food was making his stomach rumble.

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><p>"Evenin' Mr Holmes" called Charlie the bartender when a slightly fumbling Sherlock Holmes wound his way down the rickety wooden steps leading to the upper rooms of "The Green Clover Tavern" where the detective had a rented room. "Evening Charlie, Do you have that Tullamore whisky down there?" The small Irishman chuckled and ducked below the old, worn bar reappearing seconds later a brown whisky bottle clenched firmly in his pudgy hand, "Had it shipped o'er just for you Mr Holmes." Holmes nodded and accepted the bottle from Charlie, exchanging it with a few gold coins, before pulling the cork from the glass neck with his teeth and knocking an amount of the amber liquid down his throat, the liquor burning a trail down to his stomach. "Something certainly has you riled up Mr Holmes. Anything ol' Charlie can do for ye?" Sherlock leaned heavily on the bar top and heaved a laboured sigh. "Nothing trivial, Charlie. Nothing a boxing match couldn't sort out. I need a vent Charlie, to get my mind back on the task at hand. No man made his way in the world, especially in my profession when their mind is being hounded by the mere thought of a woman. I am having a lapse in my sane mind that is all."<p>

Charlie chuckled and listened to the detective as he brooded over the young woman he mentioned. It was a shock to Charlie, to hear Holmes mind was being clouded by a woman, _'She must be some woman'_ He thought to himself but instead he just dried another glass tankard and reassured the dishevelled man before him, "Aye, I'm sure you're right Mr Holmes."

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><p>Bonnie shivered in her armchair, closing her book and leaning her cheek on the back of her hand, her dark eyes watching her brother intently as he fiddled with numerous little brown and green pill bottles and their contents, the rumbling thunder shook the rickety old window panes. The siblings sat in a comfortable silence, when the front door's old letter box rattled. "Miss Watson, another letter for you." Mrs Hudson said bustling into the living room the letter held in her hand. "I'll take that Mrs Hudson, thank you." Watson said taking the envelope and tearing it open, reading the short lines of text inside out loud.<p>

_Blue was always a flattering colour on you … but that friend of yours … her mouth will get her in trouble one of these days …_

Watson's lips set into a hard line as his hand scrunched the letter into a ball in fury and throwing it onto the coffee table in disgust. Bonnie gripped the arm rests of her chair, her fingers almost ripping the material away from the wood and her skin turning a ghostly shade of white. "We need to find Holmes, now." Watson said, walking as fast as he could to the door, pulling on his coat and hat and beckoning Bonnie to follow him, holding out her black velvet cloak for her. "Where will Mr Holmes be at this hour? And in this storm?" she asked, disgruntled as she pulled the hood up to shadow her face. As they stepped out into the darkness of Baker Street, Watson held firmly onto her hand. "I know exactly where he will be. Let's not tarry, it will only put you in more danger my dear."

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><p>Holmes leaned against the side of the fighting pit, and scrubbed a large, slightly dirty hand over his sweat and blood covered face, pushing the wet curls off of his forehead. His chest heaved as he watched the giant of a man pacing around on the other side of the pit, his exposed torso as covered in as much sweat and blood as Holmes' own. The crowd roared and shouted in a drunken stupor, making his head spin, his eyes only fixed on the face of his opponent as he thought out his next movements. <em>– Throw bottle into crowd, distract target – Attempt body shot and block blind elbow jab – heel kick to ribs, spin and open hand slice to Adam's apple and voice box – duck wild punch and fit to patella, break right knee – floating blow to ribs, wavering balance – final heel kick to diaphragm – In Summary … three cracked ribs, two broken, torn voice box, splintered knee, punctured stomach cavity … physical recovery … nine months … psychological recovery … highly unlikely<em>. Holmes pushed himself off of the wall and brought his brown whisky bottle up to his lips, and pondered at it momentarily before lifting it above his head and throwing it into the crowd, it's smash covered by the uproar of the audience. Bringing his arm up the detective smashed his fist into his challenger's abdomen, twisting beneath the flailing arms Holmes shot one arm up, grabbing the blow that was coming his way and using the limb to pull himself up, he slammed a sharp open palmed slap to the man's throat before ducking once again and slamming his fist into the man's right knee earning a satisfied crack from the bone. Standing back up he threw a punch to the already cracked ribs, and was knocked of his guard by a loud feminine draw of breath and a waft of expensive perfume hit his nose.

Holmes looked to the side, scanning the faces of the crowds and finally settling on the faces of a stern looking Watson and a ghostly pale looking Bonnie, her flesh having turned an unusual shade of translucent white, and her big brown eyes had glazed over as her body swayed precariously until she passed out, her body falling limp into her brother's outstretched arms. Holmes' gut reaction was to leap over the side of the pit and come to her aid, an unusual feeling for him, one he had only ever felt with Irene, but as he placed his hands on the pit's wooden rim, ready to vault over the top, he felt a punch collide with the side of his head, sending his body crashing to the dusty floor. A snarl plastered on his face Holmes got up and shook his head continuing his assault on his opponent, a heel kick to his chest sending his body flying backwards and knocking him out.


	8. The beginning of something

**Hello All! heres the newest chapter! hope you like it. As always I'd like to thank everyone who subscribed or favourited my story ... im glad you like it. And special thanks to SPEEDIE22, Mz. Padfoot14, watergoddesskasey and Lady Wesker for reviewing, your feedback helps me greatly! **

**Disclaimer: I don't known Sherlock Holmes or Dr Watson ... unfortunatly**

Holmes sighed heavily as he leaned against the intricately carved bedpost, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, shirt hanging open and his braces draped by his hips. He let his eyes rest on the pale face of the girl sleeping on the bed. He took a slow drag on his pipe, the glowing embers turning a brighter shade of orange. He remained standing by her side, his eyes never leaving her limp body until, her nose twitched and her eyelids started to flutter, signalling that she was waking up. With another long, drawn out sigh, Holmes retreated to an arm chair in the corner of the darkened room, the blackness swallowing up his figure.

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><p>Bonnie scrunched her eyes and nose up and flexed her fingers as she felt herself wake up, her head cushioned in a thin pillow an a ratty woollen blanket covering her feet. It took a while once she opened her big dark eyes, to grow accustomed to the gloominess of the room. Sitting up slowly, she placed her bare feet onto the cold wood of the floor, her petite body shuddering with a chill, and she rubbed her arms in an attempt to develop some warmth into her limbs. The wind blew and buffeted, making the window panes rattle in their fastenings, and the curtains wave in the draft. Bonnie stood from the bed and made her way over to the big gold mirror above the fireplace, and gazed into her own face, her pale reflection reminding her painfully of a ghost, and her long dark curls blew loosely around her face giving her a wild appearance. A warm orange glow from the corner of the room caught her eye and she turned to face the unknown entity, her hands balling defensively by her sides.<p>

"You have nothing to fear, Miss Watson; you are in the company of friends." Holmes said standing from his chair, and walking to the window, and tugged the curtains back and looking broodingly out onto the grimy streets below. Bonnie giggled and felt herself relax as she watched the detective's moonlit silhouette, "Friends … yet you still insist on calling me 'Miss Watson' I would much prefer you to call me Bonnie." Sherlock's shoulders bobbed up and down as he chuckled, and shook his head, his unruly curls swishing with his movements. "I hardly think using your name in pubic is proper, but I see no reason why I cannot use it in personal quarters … Bonnie." He used her name as an almost after thought, making a small, warm smile slide onto her pretty pink lips. "Thank you Mr Holmes" she whispered edging closer to him until she stood a mere foot away from his broad back, his boy heat radiating off onto her skin. "Sherlock … if we're using names in personal quarters." He said, his voice like velvet, placing his now extinguished pipe onto a small ebony table, before leisurely turning to face her. A gasp rose in her throat and she bit her bottom lip as he observed the purplish bruise high on his cheekbone and the nasty looking gouge on his own lip, the wounds marring his rugged but beautiful face. His breath ruffled her hair and she brought a dainty hand up to his face, her fingers tracing over his injuries, making his eyes close and a barely audible guttural purr left his throat, "What happened to your face Sherlock?" The detective lazily opened his dark eyes to once again gaze into hers, "I was distracted … it rarely happens, I can assure you." Bonnie nodded and looked at the floor, her dark eyelashes shadowing on the pale flesh of her cheeks, "I am unharmed. It's only a few bruises." Holmes placed two strong fingers below Bonnie's chin, twisting her face back up to look at him, his calloused thumb grazing gently on the underside of her jaw, "I have been through far worse." Bonnie opened her mouth to say something in reply when the pair heard limping footsteps coming down the hall outside the door, making them retreat to a safe distance just as the door swung open with a click.

"Ah, Bonnie dear, you're up. Are you well?" Asked Watson as he dropped his black medical bag by the door, swiftly running over to Bonnie and checking her heart beat with a stethoscope. "Well, your heart beat is back to normal, but you're still looking pale, maybe you should sit down dear." Bonnie shook her head frustrated, but sat back on the bed anyway, her head was spinning a little _but_ she thought _not from my little fainting incident_ unconsciously her eyes flicked up to Sherlock who was wincing at the light that had been introduced to the room by Watson lighting the oil lamps. "On the matter of those letters, Holmes and I have decided that you might not be safe at 221b, as you're … erm … admirer seems to have discovered that you are staying there, so we've decided you are to stay here, in Holmes' apartment." Bonnie furrowed her eyebrows, her brain working overtime, the process obviously being shown on her face, because Holmes turned to face her, his big dark eyes burning into hers, "I use this apartment when I box downstairs." Watson sat beside his sister, talking her hand gently in his, "We will take it in turns, spending days with you here until the case is solved or it is safe for you to return to 221b. Holmes and I will just go and get your things, so make yourself comfortable, we will return shortly." And with that the two men departed from the room, leaving Bonnie to lie back on the mattress and run her hands over her face, her mind full of the danger she had found herself in.

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><p>Maria Carter bustled to her front door, her expensive high heels clicking on the wood of her hallway floor. Sighing through her journey, she mumbled annoyed that she had let both her maids take a week off; she had become accustomed to the expensive and lavish life of luxury that meant she never had to lift a finger, she just had to sit and look beautiful at her husband's work festivities. Pulling the door open, she looked around the supposedly empty street, "Uh, Hello?" she asked, stepping one small foot onto the pavement outside, her eyes searching the darkness of the street for any sign of the visitor. When no answer came, she sighed once again and pouted her pretty pink lips, turning to close the door and make her way back into the parlour, but before she could take two steps she felt the cold metal of a blade pressed to the hollow of her neck and a big, calloused hand clamped firmly over her mouth. Using a hard shove the figure turned Maria to face him, her eyes red and streaming with tears. Her eyes widened as she recognised the man holding her captive, "you!" she struggled to whisper through her tears, earning a hard backhanded slap that sliced her lip drawing blood. "Mrs Maria Carter, well, well haven't you gone up market? Being spoiled by that husband of yours? You always did want to live the luxury life didn't you? Couldn't settle for being a hum drum country girl, like my beautiful Miss Bonnie?" Maria was shaking with fear, but felt a wave of courage boiling inside her, "Bonnie is happy now … leave her alone … she never loved you." The man's face contorted with anger at her last comment and snarled quickly slicing the blade across her pale throat, blood gurgled in her throat and dripped down the side of her chin. Her eyes glazed over as her body crumpled to the floor. Her murderer wiped his hands on the bottom of Maria's pink velvet dress, and slammed the heavy wooden front door on his way out.<p>

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><p>"Holmes will stay with you for the first few days, until I can get through all of my appointments. Now, I have to take my leave, I have an early appointment with Colonel Rodgers in the morning. Good night Bonnie dear, stay safe." Watson whispered, wrapping his arms gently around his sister and pressing a soft kiss into her hairline, before departing from the attic apartment, leaving Bonnie and Holmes alone in the dimly lit rooms.<p> 


	9. Narrowing Down the List

**I know, its been forever and I do apologise ... theres just been a lot of crap going on that has needed sorting! I hope you all enjoy this chapter, please give any feedback, its much appreciated! I just want to thank all my lovely readers that have reviewed and subscribed ... I love you all! ...**

**Disclaimer: Unfortunatly I don't own Sherlock or Watson, I just hope I can do them some justice.**

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><p>Bonnie sighed and pouted, her head held in her delicate hands as she watched the rain trickle down the dirty pane of glass. The clouds rolled and a faint thunder rumbled through the thick London air, making her stomach tense up and her fragile body shook in the cold atmosphere. Glancing over her shoulder, she watched Holmes who sat beside the glowing fire, a book open and propped up on one raised knee. Tentatively she licked her lips, contemplating if she should try to break the room's comfortable silence. "What are you reading Sherlock?" The detective looked up at her from underneath his dark eyelashes. "Nothing in particular, just an old childhood favourite, 'Tour du monde en quatre-vingts jours'" Bonnie nodded, translating his perfect French in her mind "Around the world in 80 days? I used to love that book, John used to read it to me when I was a little girl and I couldn't sleep at night, he used to sneak into my bedroom when our parents were asleep, sit next to me on the bed and read to me til I fell asleep. I really missed it when John went off to medical school. I was never as close to our eldest brother as I was to him." While Bonnie had been talking Holmes had closed his book and placed it on the table beside his chair, in order to listen to her heartfelt story. "Ah yes, you must have been quite young when Watson left for medical school, around thirteen, am I correct?"<p>

"You are correct; I had turned thirteen the day he left. I had begged him not to leave before my birthday, and he obliged, spending the day with me by the river, reading stories and eating scones and cream cakes. I remember being told off by mother because we had spoiled our dinner. Did you get along well with your brother Sherlock?" The detective snorted with humour, "No, Mycroft and I have never been at each other's level. Although I have been told we are similar, by people who don't know us well, but we are as different as Chalk and Cheese." Bonnie chuckled and moved to sit in front of the fire warming her hands and feet. "Are you cold?" Holmes asked standing from his seat and pulling a deep red blanket from the bed, bending to wrap it around her shoulders, making Bonnie's cheeks flood a bright red as his big hands gently squeezed her upper arms and his body heat enveloped her back, "It wouldn't sit well with Watson if I allowed you to catch a cold." She turned her face slightly, unaware of his proximity her forehead brushed faintly against his stubble encrusted jaw, the tough bristles bringing up a light texture rash against her delicate skin. "Mm … it …uh … wouldn't." she agreed struggling for words as she looked deep into his dark chocolate coloured eyes, her lips trembling with nerves. "Hmm" he purred, the velvety tone sending shivers down her spine, tingling all the way to her bare toes. "Sherlock, Thank you for everything, I don't know what I'd do without you and John." Sherlock looked at her from under heavily lidded eyes, one big hand pushing a stray curl from the side of her face, "It's my pleasure Bonnie, you are an intriguing, beautiful, befuddling distraction" Her cheeks turned deeper scarlet at his compliment. "Thank you Sherlock." She breathed, her heart thumping wildly in his chest. She swallowed heavily and tried to control her butterflies, as he chuckled quietly, pushing a stray curl back behind her ear.

A loud series of chimes rang out from the clock above their heads on the mantelpiece, making the pair nearly jump out of their skin. Sherlock let his eyes roll up to the golden carriage clock, taking note of the time. "You should get some rest; we will need you refreshed tomorrow." He said standing and holding his hand out to help the petite brunette up, and let her silently back to the bed, her hand still gripped tightly in his larger one. Neither said a word as the detective pulled the heavy sheets back allowing her to slide onto the soft mattress and her head to hit the pillow, her curls creating a dark halo around her head. "Where will you sleep?" She asked, her voice gaining a thick element as her body started to welcome sleep. Sherlock Holmes just smirked in reply to the question, pulling the duvet up around her body and blowing the candle beside the bed out as her eyes closed, and retreating back to his comfortable arm chair and book, his eyes occasionally flicking up from the pages to watch the young woman sleep.

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><p>"What will you be doing today? Chasing baddies? Investigating a crime scene?" Bonnie asked as she nibbled on her jam covered toast, her eyes flicking over the faces of both Holmes and Watson. Holmes grunted and turned his attention back to the paper, but Watson swallowed his mouthful of tea and answered his little sister's question, "There is very little we can do until we have any more evidence, so we are going to narrow down our suspects by going through your life and the people you have been in contact with recently. In fact we could start now, if you feel comfortable and have finished your breakfast." Bonnie ate the last corner of her toast, using the tip of her pink tongue to clean the escaped jam off of her fingers, and nodded showing she was ready. "Ok, do you want to start with everyone you've had contact back in the country?" Watson said grabbing a small notepad from a sideboard and a gold pen from his jacket pocket. "Uh, ok, where to start." Bonnie mumbled, wracking her brain to include all the people she had contact with, "How far back would you like me to go? I'm not sure I could remember everyone all the way back to our childhood, John." Sherlock looked up from is paper again, "That would be unnecessary Miss Watson, Around three years would be sufficient." Bonnie just nodded and cleared her throat beginning her list of acquaintances. "Well of course there's Aunt Ellen and Uncle George, I've lived with them for the last five years, since I finished at Madam LaFleur's girls' school, William and Christopher Thompson – they live in our village but they both left for London a few years past. Tobias and his parents that live next door, Maria of course, and our friend Lilia, Willis; Aunt Ellen and George's butler, Martha the maid and Vivienne the cook. Of course, my dear Fiancé Inigo, His parents Doctor and Mrs Walsh. Oh, and Inigo's brother Tarrent, and their close friend David Leyton" Holmes coughed and folded his paper and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and tapping his fingers together under his chin. "Did you have any enemies Miss Watson?" He asked slowly, his eyes drilling into hers, his words caused Watson to snort in amusement and shake his head, "Of course she didn't Holmes, Bonnie gets along with everyone." The detective swiftly snapped his head away from the pretty young woman in front of him to the doctor, his eyes taking on a steely element, "Evidently Watson, She has attracted an element of a negative relationship to be in this position, don't you agree?" The doctor pursed his lips and remained silent, realising he was wrong.<p>

Bonnie sighed and shook her head gaining Holmes' attention again, "Not that I am aware of Mr Holmes, I try to stay on the positive side of polite society. Our Aunt Ellen wouldn't have it any other way." Holmes just nodded and dug his pipe out of his pocket, and put it to his lips lighting it. "However, we must conclude that the letters come from a male admirer, judging by the handwriting I'd safely say a young but educated man, perhaps a doctor, or a lawyer maybe, the lettering is clear, joined and slanted, writing like that is greatly encouraged in universities in both the city and the country." "So we need to narrow the suspects down to the men," Watson said as he crossed out the women's names he had written. "Uncle George, Doctor Walsh, Tobias's father Michael and Willis too as our suspect is young." Holmes nodded, drumming the fingers on his spare hand on the table, his fingernails making a light tapping noise. "That leaves us with five main male suspects, as it would be impossible for your fiancé Inigo to send those letters after his unfortunate demise." Bonnie bit her lip and looked at the floor. "We will have to speak to all the men we can on our suspect list. We shall do some first thing I the morning, starting with the Thompson brothers as there is a high chance they are here in London." Bonnie forced a small smile at Holmes who gently inclined his head before turning his back on the Watson siblings, his gaze focusing out of the window onto the grimy streets below.


	10. Hard Hitting News

**Hello to All my readers! I'd like to thank you all for favouriting and reviewing ... please keep the feedback coming. This is ... I'm proud to announce ... The last of my plain 'building block' chapters. The action starts here ... so be on the look out for a spicy chapter 11. xx**

"Toby is safe from your suspects too, he isn't a doctor or a lawyer, he's a stable hand, he was the one that delivered my letter to you John." Bonnie said, quick to defend her friend. "That may be Miss Watson, but I'm afraid we can rule out no one. We will be questioning all of the gentlemen on your list, but I'm sure we will be able to remove him from the case without much hassle." Holmes said moving to his armchair by the fireplace, stopping in his journey to pour himself a cup of tea. "Of course Mr Holmes I completely understand." Bonnie said nodding her head meekly, her lips set in a sad expression. "Don't worry Bonnie dear, I'm sure Toby will be fine, I have all my faith in the lad." Watson said reaching over and squeezing his sister's hand. A loud banging at the door broke the touching family moment and Lestrade came barging through the door with Clarkey and an unnameable policeman, the inhabitants of the room gazing up at them in surprise, Holmes raised his eyebrows and pouted his lips in a sideways smirk, clearly amused by the rushed entrance, "Yes Lestrade? Is there a reason you nearly broke my door down?" he drawled angering the frustrated inspector, his pinched, mousy face turning a violent red. "Holmes, We have been looking for you for two hours. There has been a murder. Doctor Watson and Yourself were specifically asked for by the victim's husband." Watson grimaced and got to his feet quickly sliding on his coat and grabbing his black leather medical bag, but Holmes remained sat in his chair, examining his fingernails in a nonchalant manner, "What is the name of the husband in question?" Lestrade quickly flicked his eyes to Bonnie who was sipping tea from her china cup, and winced, looking back to Holmes, "Mr Warren Carter."

A shrill scream rang through the small loft apartment, followed by a smash as Bonnie dropped her cup, the tea spilling over her dress, burning her exposed skin, but the pain was the last thing on Bonnie's mind as she let out another shriek, and her fragile, shaking hands gripped the arms of her chair so hard her knuckles turned a bright shade of white. Watson dropped his bag and came running, kneeling down before her, his hands gripping her cheeks and whispering comforting words as she shook violently, tears pouring from her eyes. Holmes stood from his chair and ushered the policemen from the room, "We will attend when Miss Watson is calmed, Clarkey" He asked turning to the constable, "Could you ask Charlie downstairs to ask Mrs Hudson and Miss Mary Morstan to come here, they can deal with young women crying better than I."

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><p>"She will be fine Watson, There is nothing you can do from here, you will be back with her as soon as you can" Holmes snapped as the pair made their way through London's busy streets, The Doctor grumbled and rolled his eyes at the attitude of his friend, "Do you have no sensitivity Holmes? That's my sister's best friend! Did you not see the state she was in when we left? Have you no heart?" He shouted, stopping in his track and waving his cane around vigorously. Sherlock stopped and stared at his friend, his dark eyebrows brought together in a deep set frown, before raising them and continuing on his fast pace towards the Carter house, where the big wooden door was open, a shaft of warm yellow light flowing through the doorway. The town house was surrounded by uniformed policemen forming a barrier and blood hungry crowds baying to get a look at the body of the unfortunate Maria Carter that was just inside the hall. Holmes pushed his way through the vast throng of people, mumbling 'Excuse me' as he went clearing a small gap for a livid Watson to follow him through. The detective paused beside a weary looking policeman by the door, not even turning his head to look at the man properly, he raised his voice so the constable could hear him over the crowd, "I can get nothing of great importance done with this amount of noise and so many unwanted voyeurs, see to it that they are dispersed constable …" He pulled back the policeman's lapel and looked at his metal badge, raising his eyebrows and pouted "Hall." Hall nodded and indicated to his colleagues to start ushering the crowds away "Of Course Mr Holmes"<p>

Holmes and Watson headed into the hallway, where they found a red eyed Warren Carter sat on the fine carpeted staircase, his clothes dishevelled and a handkerchief clenched tightly in his hand. Upon seeing their arrival the unhappy widower hauled himself to his feet and made his way over, holding his hand out in greeting, "Thank you for coming gentlemen. I do apologise for the state you find me in, but Maria was my entire world, I'm unsure as to how I will cope without her. If I could just get my hands on the man who did this to my beautiful wife, I'll kill him myself." Warren's voice went up an octave with anger as he threatened his wife's absent murderer. "Yes, Well, I can assure you I will do my best to catch this villain. Has anyone touched anything in the vicinity?" Holmes asked removing his hat and hanging it on the banister. "No, They have only covered my Maria with a sheet to veil her from the prying public eye that has surrounded my door since I raised the alarm upon finding her when I arrived home this morning from an over night business trip. I am well aware of your methods Mr Holmes, and have made sure everything is in a condition that will be beneficial to your work." Holmes nodded and walked away beginning his close examination of the crime scene.

Watson stepped forward and shook Warren's hand, "I'm truly sorry, your wife was a good woman. I applaud you for the strength you are showing. Unfortunately my dear sister isn't quite in as good shape." The doctor said his voice thick with sympathy. "Watson!" Holmes shouted from beneath a wooden hallway table, I think it is time you conducted an examination of Mrs Carter's body. I'm sure Mr Carter would prefer everything to be over." Watson tipped his hat to Warren who was making his way upstairs, not wanting to see his wife's mutilated body again, and made his way over to the sheet covering his sister's dead best friend, pulling the covering away from her corpse.

"Do you have a time of death?" Holmes asked quietly popping up beside Watson as he was finishing his examination, "Indeed I do Holmes, judging by the state of rigor and the temperature of the body, I'd say Maria here has been dead approximately twelve hours, putting the time of her demise around nine last evening." Holmes nodded, encouraging his friend to go on, "What else can you tell me of Mrs Carter's death? The method perhaps? Any unusual characteristics?" Using a long pair of surgical tongs, he pointed to the long red incision on the deceased red head's throat, "The method of dear Maria's death is here, A viciously deep cut to the throat, that has severed both the trachea and spinal cord, very nearly removing the head altogether. " He pointed the tool at some purplish bruising around her wrists, "If you look here there are large purple bruises where she has been dragged, possibly from the door where the blood trail you were just examining started. The bruises are large and deep, suggesting a man of great strength." Holmes nodded and rubbed his stubble encrusted chin thoughtfully, "You are right about the blood trail Watson, just off to the right there, is a foot print in the blood of unfortunate acquaintance, It is defiantly a man's print, around a size eleven, round toed shoes or boots expensive and hand made." Watson coughed and reached over pulling a crumpled white envelope from Maria's skirt pocket, "look here Holmes, Do you think its another message from him?" Holmes pursed his lips and took the paper from Watson's fingers, gingerly unfolding it and letting his big dark eyes travelling over the script, taking in every word, before shoving it in his pocket and pulling on his hat leaving the house saying "Come, Watson, there is nothing more to see here." Before the doctor even had time to register his friend's hasty departure.

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><p>Bonnie heard the rickety slam of the pub's front door closing, and buried herself deeper into the soft pillows and mattress and she heard two sets of footsteps making their way up the old stairs, one quick and light as if the owner was running '<em>Sherlock, no doubt<em>' she thought to herself as she pictured him eager to get in and note down his findings on one of his 'deduction boards' that he had leaning against the far wall, quickly followed by the distinct limping lollop accompanied by the click of a cane that belonged to her brother's gait. Her suspicions were confirmed when the attic room's door banged open and in bounded Sherlock Holmes, earning a startled shriek from Mrs Hudson and Mary who were sat by the fire place, thinking Bonnie was fast asleep. "Mr Holmes, really! Poor Miss Bonnie is asleep, have some consideration!" Mrs Hudson whispered, her old face set into a deep frown, However Holmes ignored her and headed straight for one of the wooden deduction boards, "She is no such thing nanny, Isn't that right Miss Watson, her breathing is not heavy enough for her to be sleeping and her eyelids keep fluttering" Bonnie sat up in the bed, her sore eyes stinging, as she drew a handkerchief across her nose, her hands still shaking. "Well, really!" huffed Mrs Hudson, "Have you just been laying there pretending to be sleeping?" the old housekeeper rounded on Bonnie, her eyes cold and accusing. "Nanny, I'm sure Miss Watson has fair reason." Holmes said, not even looking up from the scrap of paper he was attaching to the piece of cork board. "I'm sorry Mrs Hudson, I just felt I needed some time to my thoughts. I was not intentionally being rude." Bonnie whispered, fighting the urge to drop her polite manner, and shout about how she wanted to be left alone to grieve in peace, forcing a small smile, that melted Mrs Hudson's heart, the old woman's hardened expression instantly softening. "Very well Miss Watson, we will leave you in peace, Mr Holmes, it would be polite for you to do the same." She said gathering her coat and making her way towards the door, her comment earning nothing more than an uninterested grunt from Holmes. "Forgive him Bonnie, Holmes has very few ways of showing emotions." Watson said closing the door and placing a kiss on the top of Bonnie's head. She squeezed her brother's hand lovingly and looked watched Holmes out of the corner of her eye as his hands stilled on the board in front of him, tipping his head slightly so his eyes connected with hers momentarily, his deep, dark irises filled with sympathy that was unusual for the normally cold and calculating detective.


	11. Intimate Advances

**Hello my lovely readers! Here is spicy chapter 11! I hope you all like it, please feedback ... I like hearing what you think! As usual I'd like to thank my lovely avid reviewers TinkerbellxO, Garnet86, SPEEDIE22! I love you all! and thank you for everyone for subscribing in one way or another!** **Please Enjoy!**

Bonnie sniffed quietly to herself, the unladylike noise barely audible over the violent crackling of the fire, making Sherlock Holmes look up at the curled up ball of a girl on the mattress, all interest in his book gone as he watched her petite shoulders shake. A white hot lump became lodged in his throat, as he placed the book aside and slowly rose from his chair, moving to the small wooden table beside the fireplace, pouring two tumblers of whisky from a crystal decanter. He languidly raised one of the glasses to his lips, draining the strong amber liquid from its container, the liquor burning a trail down his throat, as his mind battled the strange concoction of emotions that had started to invade his brain after being alone in the little attic room with a very distraught Bonnie. His stomach churned and brain swirled with a mix of emotion and logic, as he placed his now empty glass down and made his way over to the bed, kneeling just in front of her, so that if she raised her head she would be on eye level with him. "Miss Bonnie, I brought you this." he offered holding out her glass, his velvety voice feigning his cumbersome thoughts. His heart clenched painfully as the brunette sat up in the bed, one small hand clasping the blanket to her chest and the other holding a soggy handkerchief, her big brown eyes were red lined and her normally pink cheeks were drained to a shade of porcelain white. She sniffed lightly, her tiny button nose scrunching up at the movement, "Thank you, Sherlock" she whispered her dainty hand dropping the cloth and accepting the glass from him, sipping the amber liquid and pulling a face as it burned her throat. "Are you quite alright my dear?" Holmes asked, trying his hardest to show her his sensitive side, his voice very hushed, "I'm bearing up, I'm going to miss her though, she was my best friend, she was with me through everything. She helped me choose dresses for balls when we were at school, she helped me plan everything for my wedding, and helped me though when Inigo died." her voice wavered and hot, salty tears started to pour down her cheeks. Sherlock felt his heart swell in his chest, and his body and mind ached as he watched the scene unfold before him, and he shifted uncomfortably, flexing his hands, unsure what to do in the face of her distraught nature. "Sherlock" she half sniffed, half whispered, her big dark eyes staring deep into his soul, "Please, … I mean, would you mind … holding me?" Holmes hesitated, looking at her tear worn face as her bottom lip started to shake with a fresh wave of tears, her pearly white teeth nipping at the flesh and turning it from rosebud pink to white, making Holmes unconsciously drag his tongue across his own lips and slowly hoisted himself onto the mattress, wrapping his strong arms uneasily around her shoulders, his grip on her fragile body remaining light and unsure as the young woman engulfed his torso in a tight embrace, her warm and wet face pressed into his neck.

Swallowing, he tightened his hold on her, even though he still maintained his wariness, her tears wetting his chest as she let them flow freely in his presence, until she pulled back from his body and looked into his eyes, sniffing and forcing a tiny smile. "Thank you Sherlock, I just needed someone." He nodded and got to his feet, aiming to go back to his chair by the fire but he was stopped by Bonnie daintily catching his shirt sleeve in her hand. Slowly he turned his head to look back at her, "Yes, Miss Watson? What is it?" He asked, his voice oddly thick. "Was I out of place to ask Mr Holmes?" Clenching his hands he returned to stand before her as she kneeled on the bed to look at him, "No" He whispered, so close to her face that his warm breath butterflied over her skin.

Bonnie inhaled sharply at the proximity between her and the great detective, so close she could make out the dark green flecks around the irises of his big brown eyes and a healing cut on his bottom lip. "No?" she asked breathlessly, her stomach filled with butterflies as she observed his eyes flicking between her own eyes and her lips in a quick and unsure manner. "No." he confirmed his voice still in the hushed tone he had used before "There is just something inside me that finds it hard to see you in this amount of pain." Bonnie fought back the burning sensation in her throat as hot tears started to once again line her eyes, threatening to spill over. "That was no excuse to get tearful again my dear, in fact I thought it'd ward you off of the action." He scolded her playfully, clasping her face in the palm of his hand, and using his thumb to brush away a few stay tears that had trickled their way down her now pink cheek. "It has done no such thing, it has merely warmed my heart that you care, they are happy tears I assure you."

Holmes inclined his head slightly, a small smile graced his lips, surprised at himself that he was tapping into his carefully bottled up emotions. His hand that was on her cheek moved to the back of her head, tangling his fingers into her loose dark curls, making an explosion of butterflies erupt into her tummy as his other hand gripped her hip, his strong fingers almost burning a hole in her flesh. Bonnie's heart started to beat at double time as he bent his head getting close enough to her face that their noses brushed, the stubble on his jaw tickling her skin. "Sherlock?" She whispered, her voice slightly hoarse, "Wha..." She started but was cut off by the detective's lips crashing onto hers.

It was a sweet, brief kiss that lasted mere seconds but to Bonnie felt like it lasted forever and she swallowed heavily as Sherlock pulled back, his normally pale skin tinted with blush slightly. "I, uh, do apologise Miss Watson, I don't know what came over me" he murmured his voice taking on a low gravelly tone, turning around and shuffling his way back to his chair, slumping down into the seat and running his large hands over his face and through his unruly dark hair, with his eyes closed. Bonnie furrowed her brow and daintily climbed down from the bed, her bare feet padding across the rough wooden floorboards, making her way to his resting place. Suppressing a small giggle she bent a little, so her face was level with his using her own small hands to pry his away from his tangled mess of dark hair. He opened his big dark eyes looking back at her, a shine of uncertainty in his chocolate irises. "Sherlock, You can't just kiss a lady like that and just walk away... its not polite." she smirked, making him reciprocate a small smile. "Well, that just won't do now, will it?" he drawled flirtily, pulling her onto his lap, earning a small squeak from Bonnie, as he cupped the back of her head in one gentle hand and kissed her once again, adding a degree of passion, making Bonnie's heart beat so fast it could break through her chest.

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><p>Bonnie finished clipping her last curl to the back of her head with a black and diamond slide, and smiled at herself in the long mirror. She was clothed in a simple black dress, with comfortable black boots and black gloves, an outfit she considered would be suitable for the strenuous activities of her day ahead and still maintained an element of mourning for his best friend. She sighed and nodded defiantly, her mind made up that she was no longer going to sit around and weep. Casting a glance over shoulder she watched Holmes sleeping in the chair he had been ensconced in throughout the night, his dark head tipped to the side, legs stretched out in front of him and a book open on his chest. She let a small chuckle escape her lips as she made her way over to the snoozing man, taking the book from him, closing it, and placing it on a small side table. The action caused the detective's eyes to fly open and his hand shot out, grabbing her wrist. "Calm down Sherlock, its only me." She cooed reassuringly, as he relaxed and slumped back into his chair.<p>

A set of footsteps accompanied by the click of a cane on the stairs outside the room, announced the arrival of Watson. "Good morning Bonnie dear, I'm glad to see you're up." the doctor said, peeling off his over coat and hat, before enveloping his sister in a tight hug. "Holmes, the police think they may have a lead on this case. They're demanding we make an appearance at Scotland Yard right away." Holmes grunted, standing from his chair and disappearing out the door without a sound. "How are you feeling today my dear?" Watson asked his sister, pulling his coat back on, "I'm doing much better thank you John." She said with a smile at Holmes as he re entered the room, pulling on a worn bowler hat and a black corduroy coat. "Let us away then mother hen." he drawled. Watson nodded and made to leave, but stopped dead in his tracks, and turned around watching Bonnie pull on her cloak and black bonnet, "What are you doing Bonnie?" The pretty brunette smiled and hooked a lace umbrella over her elbow, "I'm coming with you John, I want to help solve the case."

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><p><strong>I really hope you all enjoyed this chapter! I went on a film set tour of Sherlock Holmes in London this week and visited 221b Bakerstreet, so I really hope my visual aid has helped me put this chapter together well! as I say ... please feedback! and I hope you enjoyed it! <strong>


	12. Lessons in Eavesdropping

**Hello again all my lovely readers**, **I do apologise that this has taken so long, I've been a touch uninspired recently, but you'll be glad to know i'm back in action**. **So as always I'd like to thank you all for reading, favouriting, subscribing and special thanks to the lovely TinkerbellXO -(I'm glad you think she's like that ... its exactly what I was going for with Bonnie) and SPEEDIE22 for your reviews! please keep reviews coming ... I need to know if this story is going down with you all ... Your feedback is like an addiction ha ha. :) Enjoy Guys!**

"Holmes!" Bellowed Lestrade as the trio entered his office, "Took you bloody long enough don't you think?" The sallow, mousy faced inspector stopped in his tracks, his voice fading from his lips seeing Bonnie step out from behind the great detective and her brother. "Oh, Milady, I do apologise, I did not see you there." Bonnie smirked and walked forward taking Lestrade's offered hand, and dipping into a half curtsey. "Never the mind Mr Lestrade. I hear your techniques are somewhat a little better than your manner." Lestrade sputtered, attempting to come up with an answer as Bonnie turned on her heel, grinning mischievously at Holmes and Watson, who were both suppressing their laughs at the situation before them. "Yes, well, … Take a seat miss Watson." Bonnie did as she was asked. "So for what contemptible reason have you summoned our presence?" Holmes asked nonchalantly, cleaning his precious clay pipe with a handkerchief from his pocket. Lestrade huffed and sat back behind his desk, a scowl on his face. "We have had some development in evidence of Miss Watson here's case." he claimed, shuffling through a pile of papers and thin leather folders. "Dr Philips has found a bruised hand print below the victim's petticoats, he thought you might like to take a look at it, as he is familiar with your … frankly unorthodox methods. He will have the body in his practice this evening, when he has finished seeing all of his patients, so you can … uh … view it." Holmes nodded now tapping his pipe on the edge of a book case before peering into its clay bowl. "Mmm," He murmured, putting the stem in his mouth and lighting the tobacco inside, "Then that is what we shall do, Come along Watson … and Miss Watson" He used Bonnie's name as almost an after thought, as he stopped in the doorway, sticking his elbow out as an offering to the small brunette, which she readily took, casting her eyes up to his hard set face, his big dark eyes looking at her from the corners of his eyes and his lips turning up into a soft smile. The trio left the big wooden building of Scotland Yard, the bright sunlight hitting their unaccustomed bodies. "Well, doesn't it appear to be a pleasing day." Holmes said inhaling deeply as they wandered their way through the busy streets. "Should we stop for tea Holmes? The Carrion maybe? They do a splendid rose tea, I know Bonnie will love."

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><p>"I feel much safer with you here, Bonnie dear." Mrs Hudson cooed fussing around Bonnie as she unpacked her trunks, dresses and bonnets strewn around where the young Miss Watson sat cross legged on the living room floor of 221b Baker street. "Would you like a cup of tea while you're sorting that dear? I would wait until the good doctor and that infernal man return, but heaven knows when that is going to be." Bonnie chuckled and nodded a thank you to the older woman as she bustled out of the room and into the kitchen.<p>

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><p>"The hand print is approximately ten centimetres across, and the length of the longest finger is nine centimetres, showing the hands are large, and belonging to a man, one who uses his hands often with small instruments of either wood or metal, see the indentations in the palm Watson?" Holmes explained pointing out the lighter patches of bruise on the pale, cold flesh of Maria's leg. Watson bent closer to the exposed limb, mumbling an agreement with Holmes' statement. "This of course shows us our murderer is a large man, not necessarily in width, but certainly his height, six foot at least." Watson huffed and shook his head frustrated with the detective "How could you possibly know that Holmes?" Holmes smirked and pulled Maria's dress back down over her damaged ankle. "There is a simple mathematical calculation between the size of a person's hands and feet in correlation to their height. I won't bore you with the details my dear friend." Watson just nodded and placed his hat back on his head, heading to the door, "Very well Holmes. It is late and I'd rather not leave my sister too late. I thank you Dr Philips." Holmes too, donned his own coat and hat "yes thank you, this information has been invaluable." The grey haired surgeon nodded, his kind face creasing "A pleasure as always Mr Holmes. I'm glad I could be of some assistance." Watson huffed and dipped his head, frustrated. "Holmes, Hurry up! Its starting to rain out here." Holmes smirked and slowed his pace "Coming Mother Hen."<p>

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><p>"So Holmes, what do we have on our deduction board?" Watson asked as he sat down heavily in his favourite armchair, a tumbler of whisky clenched tightly in his left hand. Holmes lit his pipe and scrubbed a hand over his stubbly chin, "We have the time of death for the unfortunate Mrs Carter, The first victim, if we are to include Constable Wicker was murdered not only by the man we are hunting, but hired help, as the fraying of the rope does indicates a man of small and weak stature, however both the bruised hand and foot print by the bodies clearly denote that the man we are after is of taller stature. He wears round toed military style boots, navy, to be precise and has clear indentations in his palm from working with small metal or wooden instruments. The depth of the lacerations to Mrs Carter's body, also suggests a man of great strength, confirming our suspicions that if we are to include the death of Constable Wicker, it was achieved using the help of a man smaller and somewhat weaker than himself." Watson nodded, watching at Holmes sat at his desk, writing and pinning scraps of paper to his deduction board. A loud thud and a feminine squeak from the room above them made both men look up from what they were doing, getting to their feet as fast as they could. "Watson stay here, it is unlikely, but should anything be wrong with Miss Watson, I fear you would find the sight very difficult to handle. If there is any reason I will call." Holmes said with a weak smile, pushing a frantic looking Watson back into his chair.<p>

Bonnie cursed and attempted to climb gracefully back on to her bed, instead of the chair she had been standing on by the door just mere minutes before hand, trying to hear what the two men below were saying. Her knee throbbed, where she had fallen from her listening position, the grazed skin sending a thin layer of blood through the skirt of her white nighty. The light, running footsteps on the stairs, followed by the room's door banging open announced Holmes' arrival. Bonnie sheepishly looked up at him from under her long eyelashes, like a child getting caught doing something she shouldn't be doing. Holmes lowered his gun and smirked. "If you wanted to listen in Bonnie, you could have joined us in the living room." Bonnie smiled and bowed her head and walked towards him. "John clearly disapproves of me wanting to be part of the case. So I thought I'd keep a low profile. I cant stand to see John angry with me." Holmes tucked his gun into the top of his trousers and cupped her face in his hand as she stopped in front of him, her hands placed on his chest, her fingers playing with the open sides of his black waistcoat. "Mmm" he grumbled in response, just bending forward and cautiously placing a kiss into her loose tangle of hair. "Watson and I have gone over all we can tonight anyway. Maybe you should sleep." Bonnie sighed and buried her head further into his chest inhaling the mix of tobacco and whisky that was his unmistakable scent. "Come on, lets get you into bed Miss Watson, I'll send you're brother in to patch up your knee in a while." Bonnie nodded and accepted Sherlock's outstretched elbow, as he lead her over to the bed. "Good Night Miss Watson." He whispered placing a kiss gently on her cheek. Giggling Bonnie caught his retreating face in her hands and brought his lips back down onto hers in a passionate kiss. Holmes pulled away, his eyes wide and struggling for breath. He hovered in front of her, pausing as if having an inner battle, his big dark eyes glazing over momentarily, his momentary glitch didn't last for long as he leant forward a pressed his lips to hers in a hasty, hot kiss. Without a word he pulled away, leaving her lips tingling and layered with his taste, he stopped in the doorway, head bowed and tipped slightly to the right so he could see her over his shoulder, "Good night Bonnie. Sleep well, we have a busy day ahead of us tomorrow." Bonnie's lips twitched up into a small smile, as he closed the door behind him.

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><p>"The woman is fine. She fell from her bed in a nightmare. Her knee is bleeding if you feel the need to check it." The detective declared to the anxious looking doctor as he strolled back into the lounge. "<em>The Woman?<em> Holmes she has a name. Wait … A nightmare, is she alright?" Holmes nodded, rolling his eyes at the reprimand, "She is well, I have sent her back to bed, but I doubt she's succumbed to sleep as of yet." Watson watched his companion curiously as the dark haired detective pulled on his coat and bowler hat, "I will see to her Holmes, but where are you going? And at this late hour too." Holmes simply smirked and buttoned his coat, "No need to panic mother hen. I am going to find young Wiggins and the irregulars." and without so much as a 'goodbye' the front door slammed behind him, leaving Watson with a disgruntled look plastered across his face.

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><p>"Evenin' Mr 'olmes. Wotcha afta?" The little red haired street urchin called hopping to his feet in the doorway he had been sitting in minutes before. "Good Evening Wiggins, I have a few things I need you and the irregulars to do. I need you to Deliver these letters for me, names and addresses are on the envelopes. I need them done quickly, deliver them and report back to me at Baker Street for 8 sharp tomorrow morning." The young boy nodded and grabbed the sealed envelopes from Holmes, trying not to leave grubby fingerprints on the clean pages. "You got it Mr 'olmes. H-eight sharp." Holmes watched as Wiggins took off into the darkened street, the set of enveloped gripped tightly in on of his dirty fists.<p> 


	13. Meetings and Secret Thruths

** Hello all my lovely readers! I come bearing chapter 13! sorry it took so long i was on holiday. I really hope you enjoy it, and as I've left it on a cliffhanger (was the only place to stop it as the next chapter will have a lot of action and an intricate story part!) I'd like to thank all my readers, everyone who subscribed to this story and I'd like to put a special shout out there for Laurafxox**, **poisedrose, TinkerbellxO and SPEEDIE22 for reviewing the last chapter! really means a lot to me to know what you think! please enjoy! and let me know your thoughts!**

Bonnie raised one of her eyebrows curiously as she stood outside the living room, her ear pressed against the wooden panel, the deep rumble of masculine voices emanated through the wood. "Ah, Miss Watson, would you care for tea? It's only Mr Holmes up yet I'm afraid." Mrs Hudson asked bustling past her, the usual silver tray of tea things balanced in the crook of one arm, and pushing the door open. With a small chuckle, she followed the land lady, and sat at one of the ornate dining chairs beside the big bay window, it took a few seconds for her to notice the other occupants of the room, her eyes widening even further in surprise as her gaze settled on the small group of street urchins who were all openly staring at her as if they'd never seen a woman before in their lives. "Uh, Good Morning." She breathed, a rosy pink blush flooding up her neck and cheeks under their critical stares. Holmes smirked over at her from behind the line of nervous boys, and languidly rose from his seat, joining her beside the window. "Miss Watson, may I introduce you to the Baker Street Irregulars. The most efficient police force in the whole of London." A small red haired boy with large dimples stepped forward out of the line, taking her dainty hand in his grubby one, and placing a kiss on the elegant extremity. "Wiggins, milady." Bonnie giggled and pulled her hand back to her body, "Hello, its lovely to meet you." Holmes exhaled sharply, lighting his pipe and throwing the burnt out match through an open window panel and into the busy streets below. "Did you deliver those letters?" the great detective asked, nonchalantly examining his fingernails in the light streaming in through the window. "Of course Mr 'Olmes. Jus as you arsked ..." Holmes nodded and fumbled in his pockets, retrieving a handful of shillings, which he placed carefully into the hands of the eager boys who quickly stuffed the money into their raggedy pockets and hurriedly left winking cheekily at Bonnie as they scurried out of the door. "Well, that was … unusual." She giggled, thinking of a suitable word to describe the unusual events of the morning, "Yes, well … the irregulars are on the rough side, but they get far more impressive results than the pathetic excuse for police that are Lestrade's boys." Bonnie nodded and sipped her tea, "I'd imagine children are far better at finding out things through the city as they are easily ignored and can go unnoticed in London's ever bustling throng." Holmes raised his eyebrows appreciatively, sipping at his own tea cup, "Indeed, it is refreshing to have someone in my company that sees things as logically as I do. Incidentally Miss Watson, I happen to know, your brother, my dear friend, will be spending the night at a function with his charming fiancé this evening, meaning I have a spare ticket to the opera tonight, would you care to join me?" Bonnie smiled softly and tilted her head watching as Holmes' big dark eyes searched her own, expectantly waiting for an answer. "Of course Mr Holmes, I'd like that much. It is certainly tedious to be in the same room day after day." Holmes smiled, making his dark irises glow, "Very well, tonight we shall go to the Opera. Now if you'll excuse me" He said, standing and brushing his clothing off and heading towards the door, "I must get ready, I have a few appointments this morning, that you will also need to attend." And with a curt nod of his dark head, he left Bonnie alone and confused in the living room.

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><p>"Who are we expecting Holmes?" Watson huffed as he shifted uncomfortably in his arm chair. Holmes just cleared his throat absent-mindedly before answering, "Just a few old friends, don't worry mother hen, you wont be restless for long." and just as he had finished his sentence a loud knock resounded at the door. "Ah, here is our first guest now, I believe. Come in."<p>

Bonnie sat up straight against the back of the chez lounge, eager as the heavy wooden door swung open, and a tall dark haired man, nervously walked into the room, his eyes flitting quickly over the inhabitants of the room, a bright, brilliant smile found its way onto his lips as he caught Bonnie and John's eyes. "John! My, I haven't seen you in a long time, you look well. And Bonnie, you look as radiant as ever." The man bent in a low bow in front of the petite brunette, and brought her hand to his lips in a sultry kiss, before pulling away and looking directly at a stony faced Sherlock Holmes, who had been eyeing the man with feigned emotions. "And you must be the great detective Sherlock Holmes, that summoned me on this dreary afternoon, I am William Thompson." Holmes rose to his feet and crossed to the window, his usual pacing spot, "Indeed Mr Thompson, please take a seat and I will explain the reason I have asked you here." He gestured to the seat he had just vacated, offering William the chair. "Your presence here today is integral to an investigation to do with our mutual friend Miss Watson here. Could you tell me about your friendship with Miss Watson?" William's eyebrows rose and cleared his throat, "I'm not sure what you need this information for Mr Holmes, but, I met Miss Bonnie here when I was young, around ten as my brother and I attended school with John, beginning our friendship, We grew up together as a group and when John left for medical school at the age of eighteen, my brother Christopher and I took on the role of being Bonnie's unofficial protectors, until we moved here to London in order to pursue our careers." Holmes perched against his desk, legs stretched out and crossed in front of him, nodding for the man before him to continue, "You are a lawyer are you not?" William's mouth dropped in surprise, making John and Bonnie laugh at the familiar reaction to Sherlock's deductions. "Uh, That is correct Mr Holmes … how did you know?" The detective sighed and busied himself with his pipe, "It is simply a matter of observation. Your fingertips are slightly stained with a blue black ink that is regulation in our law offices and rarely found anywhere else except in the desks of our judges and lawyers. You have some strands of white weave on the shoulders of your waistcoat from a lawyer's white wig and the base of your boots hold a layer of yellow mud which is found in the surrounding areas of the courthouses." The lawyer slumped back in Holmes' chair, flabbergasted, a bemused smile on his lips, "very good Mr Holmes, I'm impressed." Holmes shrugged a little, sucking gently on the stem of his pipe, "It is second nature to me Mr Thompson. I just have one final question. Do you admit you ever felt romantically attached to Miss Watson?"

William's smile was wiped off of his handsome face, and his gaze flicked to Bonnie , her big brown eyes open wide and alarmed with the harsh question. "You can't expect me to answer that in front of Miss Watson, surely." he asked, his tone somewhat taken aback. Holmes smirked, and fixed the man before him with a smouldering stare, "Oh, but I do, sir." The consulting detective's face remained calm and emotion free, a sharp contrast to the reddening embarrassment shown on the young lawyer's face. He closed his eyes and sighed, avoiding any eye contact with the woman curled up on the chez lounge across the room. His voice left his mouth in a hoarse whisper, his eyes glued to the dark irises of Sherlock Holmes, "Who doesn't, Bonnie was the love of many lives in our village, she's an earthbound angel." Bonnie felt her cheeks redden and her ears tingled at the untoward compliment. A white hot burn seeped into her chest as she felt Holmes' intense stare boring into her, making her look up into his handsome face, the corner of his mouth turned up into a half smile as he murmured "Indeed" his gaze never leaving her face.

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><p>The trio's day had continued to repeat in much the same manner, conducting interviews with the men from Bonnie's list, they has successfully talked to Christopher Thompson and Tobias who had come urgently all the way from the country, just leaving Tarrent Walsh and David Leyton who were apparently unreachable for a few more days at least.<p>

"Well, I think we have done all we can today, I shall retire and see Mary. Have a good evening Bonnie dear, and you Holmes, behave yourself. It is my baby sister you're escorting this evening, I'd appreciate it if you could kindly remember so." Homes rolled his eyes at Watson's retreating back and settled himself heavily into his arm chair. Bonnie smiled a little as she watched the genius tent his fingers in front of his face, pondering over the data he has received from their meetings that day. "If you do not mind Mr Holmes I share retire also and prepare myself for the opera this evening." She said, getting to her feet and brushing down any creases in her long skirt. As she was about to walk through the door, Holmes' familiar drawl caught her ears, "Very good Miss Watson, I shall receive you from your room at seven this evening." Bonnie smiled and bent her knees in a slight curtsey to him, closing the door on her way out and climbing the stairs to her temporary bedroom.

"You do look ever so beautiful Miss Bonnie dear, it's not often I say it, but black and white suits you. They are so very wishy washy shades, very hard to make look presentable, but you have done very well." Bonnie chuckled at Mrs Hudson's ramblings and continued to apply a thin layer of silver-grey eye shadow. "And your hair! Anyone would think you were trying to impress someone." before Bonnie could answer, the bedroom door creaked open. "Don't be absurd Nanny." Bonnie blushed a deep red, the shade almost matching the red lace in her high collar. "Oh Mr Holmes, Do not dampen the dear girl's spirits … the opera is one of the most eligible places to meet a prospective new groom." Bonnie's eyes flew open so wide she almost smudged faint the line of black Kohl around them. "Indeed, Nanny. Miss Watson." The detective turned his body towards her and she hid a gasp, taking in his appearance in the glass of her mirror. His normally unruly dark hair was combed back in a fashionable style, and his normally rugged cheeks clean shaven. He had donned a matching black trouser and jacket set, a white shirt topped with an elegant black and silver waistcoat, a dark silver cravat embraced his throat and in his hand was resting a sleek black walking cane with a silver and diamond knob. "Are you ready to depart, there is a hansom cab waiting for us outside." Bonnie nodded, unable to get her vocal cords to work as she stood and took his outstretched hand in her own black gloved ones.


	14. A Night at the Opera

**Hello All my lovely lovely readers! Heres another chapter for you, I've gone for a bit of suspence towards the end, I hope I nailed it ... Let me know if I did! As always I'd like to thank everyone for subscribing etc ... and of course as always (I know this must get boring to all you lovely people, but I just want to show my appreciation.) I would like to thank my reviewers ... who are all massive stars ... TinkerbellxO, MidnightBlueSinger, Posiedrose, Dragon Lovers in BC, and SPEEDIE22 ... Really means a lot to me guys thank you! ... any who ... Big Holmes hugs all round and I hope you enjoy the latest chapter!**

The journey to the Royal Italian Opera House was quiet, Bonnie only emitting the odd squeak when the carriage hit a bump or hole in the well worn road, the small noises of surprise causing Holmes to chuckle quietly in his seat beside her. "Why can't these things be more comfortable, I will have the worst bruises on my behind come the morning." she whispered to herself, making Holmes' barely audible titter turn into a raucous bout of laughter, that was most uncharacteristic of the detective. Bonnie's eyes widened in shock and her cheeks flushed a violent red as she realised she had stated her thoughts out loud. "Uhhh ..." She stuttered, completely embarrassed, "I did not mean to come out with such a statement, It was meant for my head only." Holmes grinned at her and nodded, "Never apologise for such musings my dear, it is what gets a person through the day and what I base my observations on, my own musings. And if you are fearful that you were heard by anyone but me, you have nothing to worry about, the clattering of the wheels would have drowned your voice out to all ears but my own." Bonnie smiled gratefully up at the man beside her but was soon thrown forward, as the hansom cab came to a halt, a strong, well dressed arm broke her fall before she met the floor of the cab. "We appear to have arrived." He drawled, stepping down from the horse drawn vehicle and offered a hand to Bonnie which she readily accepted, as she emerged into the cool London air. Bonnie's mouth dropped as she took in the sights all around them. The opera house glittered with a warm yellow light, its stone angels becoming looming shadows against the grand building, and all around the street men and women in beautiful evening finery of all colours bustled and moved in a throng towards the theatre. She admired the many shades in silk dresses and the men's tailored coats from the famous Savile Row, of which they were stood on the corner. Bonnie felt butterflies erupt in her tummy as she felt Sherlock's hand wrap around her hip protectively, keeping her body in close to him. "Beautiful isn't it? How the human mind works, attracted to finery and light, just like moths around a flame." His voice was close to her ear and his breath stirred a few loose curls as he spoke. "It certainly is" She mumbled, in an attempt to push past the proximity of his body to hers and find her voice. "Not as beautiful as you however Miss Watson, I must say, that dress looks extraordinary on you, you are the very picture of beauty." Bonnie opened her mouth to thank Holmes for the unexpected compliment when a deep, humour filled voice cut her off.

"Sherlock Holmes, I do declare, Is that you?" The voice was strong and elegantly English with a very faint lacing of Irish that was cunningly disguised. Bonnie and Holmes turned on the spot to face the man in question. He was tall, with big, dark eyes and full lips and wavy dark hair to his shoulders. He was clothed in a black and green foppish suit and waving a long ebony cigarette holder from his left hand. "It is. I had no idea you were attending this evening." Holmes chatted pleasantly to the stranger, making Bonnie raise an eyebrow in surprise, for Holmes was known for being a man who rarely liked company and kept very few friends. "Couldn't possibly have passed it up Sherlock dear, it has been the talk of London. My, who is this enchanting young woman on your arm?" He asked, finally turning his attention to Bonnie, who allowed the stranger to place a kiss on her free hand, Holmes cleared his throat uncomfortably before speaking, "This is Miss Bonnie Watson, Miss Watson I'd like you to meet Oscar Wilde." Her eyes widened as her brain processed the information, "Oscar Wilde?" She asked, a little unsure of herself "_The_ Oscar Wilde?" The famous writer just laughed and bowed deeply, "The very same. And you must be related to the good Doctor Watson, a sister by chance." Bonnie nodded and relished the feel of Holmes' fingers virtually burning through her dress. "I am indeed, John's younger sister." Oscar straightened and nodded to Holmes, "Very nice to meet you Miss Watson, however I fear our acquaintance is being hampered by the start of this evenings performance. I shall look forward to meeting you again. Until next time Sherlock." And with that he disappeared into the crowd leaving Bonnie and Holmes once again alone on the street corner. "Shall we go in, darling?" he questioned, holding his hand out for her to take and leading her into the warmth of the building, and up a red and gold lined hallway, with rows of seats that were already filled with milling people.

"A box Sherlock? Really" Bonnie laughed as she took her seat, peeking over the golden railing down to the stage below. The detective chuckled and accepted a tulip shaped glass of champagne from a masked waiter who had materialised into the box. "Only the best seats Miss Watson." Bonnie smiled at the waiter, her delicate fingers closing around the stem of her own fragile champagne glass, but the bubbly drink was not what caught her attention, a sinking feeling in the pit of stomach held some recognition for the blond haired, blue eyed man behind the mask. "Do I, uh, Do I know you sir?" she asked uneasily trying her hardest not to alarm Holmes who was reading a piece of gold lined paper. The new comer shook his head, an attractive smile on his thin lips as he bowed and left them alone in the box. Bonnie sat back in her chair uneasily, one hand clenched in her lap while the other gripped the railing so tight her knuckles went white beneath her satin gloves.

Bonnie and Holmes clapped the actors along with the rest of the crowded auditorium as the red velvet curtain descended onto the stage. Holmes pulled on his outer coat and grabbed his cane, before turning to Bonnie and holding his hand out to help her up from her seat, which she gratefully accepted, a warm smile and blush on her face, as Sherlock continued to hold her hand as they left through the big golden doors and out into the dimly lit street. "Did you enjoy the opera Miss Bonnie?" He murmured, as they wandered along side lines of tall town houses and private gardens, their destination as of yet undetermined, "I did Sherlock, thank you. I saw La Vestale, eight years or so back with our elder brother before he left to do missionary work in India. I have loved it ever since, but I very rarely got time to go to the theatre at home in the country." "I find La Vestale is Spontini's greatest masterpiece. Oh, we appear to have arrived at Hyde Park, would you be inclined to join me in a stroll?" Bonnie just grinned and tightened her grip around his elbow by way of confirmation. A comfortable silence surrounded the pair as they wound their way through the moonlit park. "Did you remember who he was?" the detective drawled, his voice held at a hushed tone. Bonnie stopped, taken aback by his question, "Who who was?" she questioned, unsure what he meant. "The waiter darling, you recognised him." Bonnie, sighed and looked up into his handsome face, "His eyes and smile were so familiar Sherlock, I just cant place him." Holmes nodded, reaching into his waistcoat and retrieving his handkerchief as tears started to roll down her cheeks. "I'm sorry Sherlock, I don't mean to get emotional, its very unlike me." She sniffed daintily and wiped her eyes with the embroidered cloth. "It is of no consequence to me Bonnie darling,it is completely understandable." he consoled as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close to his chest. "You will work through the sadness and find your strength again." he rubbed a rough thumb across her cheek, wiping away her tears, "Don't let tears ruin that beautiful face." and placed a chaste kiss on her lips, Bonnie giggled and stood on her tip toes, her nose brushing against the tip of his, "Thank you for a lovely evening Mr Holmes." a smirk found its way onto his lips, "I'm glad you enjoyed it Miss Watson." he countered before kissing her again, a heated degree of passion flowing through their fused lips. A loud crack and rustling in the trees around them made Holmes and Bonnie spring apart, the detective's eyes searching the area Bonnie gripped the hand he used to push her behind him in fear. "Bonnie, stay very quiet." he commanded as he looked around, trying to pick up anything out of place. Another crack sounded behind them, and Holmes spun around, carefully pulling his gun from the waistband of his trousers, "Who's there?" he called into the darkness, only being answered by another cracking of twigs to the right of them.

Using both his hands to cup her face, Holmes instructed Bonnie to stay still and take his gun, "I had hoped it wouldn't come to this, if you need to use my gun, use it." he whispered kissing her on the cheek and pressing his revolver into the palm of her hand, before backing away and running into the trees, towards the origin of the cracking sound, stripping his coat, and waistcoat off and rolling his sleeves up as he went.

Bonnie took a deep breath to calm herself as she turned around in a slow circle, arms outstretched in front of her with the small gun cocked and ready to fire. The breeze ruffled her skirt and blew her hair around her face, sticking to her lips that she licked repeatedly in fear, "You can do this, you can do this." she whispered to herself in an attempt to build her strength. "Oh, I'm sure you can my love" growled a deep voice behind her, as something hard and heavy connected to the back of her skull, and she slumped to the ground, limp and unconscious. The masked man chuckled and picked the limp woman up bridal style, carrying her away into the darkness, oblivious of her gloves that had slipped out of her bag as he carried her away.

"Miss Watson? Miss Watson?" Holmes shouted as he made his way back into the clearing he had left her in mere minutes before, the empty grassland filling him with an unknown emotion, somewhere between fear and guilt. Spotting the silk gloves on the floor, he knelt, raising the discarded garment to his lips in thought. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have left you alone." he whispered into the material. A golden glinting caught his eye, in the darkened grass, and already hampered by guilt he picked up the glittering object, hoping that it may give him some help towards solving the case, a task that had just become even more urgent than before. Holmes examined the object in the palm of his hand, his eyes straining in the darkness, it was a cuff link, a small gold and sapphire cuff link that had obviously gotten ripped out of a sleeve, but had been hidden by Bonnie's gloves. Standing and shoving the cuff link into his trouser pocket, he began to walk, disheartened, out of the clearing and back to 221b Baker Street where he knew an unpleasant situation would be awaiting him.


	15. Held Captive

**Hello all my lovely readers, my deepest apologies that I haven't updated in a loooong time, but I have had a few very serious family problems that took priority in my life. But as usual I'd like to thank eveyone who reviewed, favourited and subscribed. I hope you all still want to read this! Thank you for your patience you lovely people!**

"SHE'S WHERE HOLMES?" Shouted Doctor John Watson, his temper so high it was bubbling over his normally calm façade. "Watson, calm down, and think." the detective mumbled, his voice thick with guilt. "Calm down? How do you expect me to calm down? that's my sister! my precious baby sister and you … YOU lost her, to a man that has been stalking her and killed her best friend." Watson slumped into a chair by the fire, his blue eyes welling with tears as he ran his hands over his face, "You lost her." he finished in a whisper, unknowingly instilling the guilt deeper into Holmes' heart. "I'm sorry Watson. We'll find the woman." Watson, was too sorrowful to even reprimand his friend, just getting up and leaving the room, only to return moments later a large sepia photograph of Bonnie clutched in his hand. "You better Holmes, you better." John sniffed as he placed the photograph on the mantle piece.

Doctor John Watson pulled himself out of his bed and studied his reflection in the mirror, saddened by the face that looked back at him, big purple bags beneath his eyes and a thick layer of light brown stubble adorned his jaw and chin. A low murmur of voices rose through the floorboards, making him raise an eyebrow in curiosity, pull on his dressing gown and head down the stairs and into the living room. "Ah, my dear Watson. I take it you remember my brother Mycroft?" Holmes called from his chair beside the window, not even turning to face the other occupants of the room, his eyes fixed on the gloomy London surroundings through the thick panes of glass, one hand cradling his chin, the other curling an unknown item to his chest. "Indeed I do, good morning Mycroft." The portly, sandy haired man nodded at him in greeting, "hello Doctor. I trust you are well? Our last assignation is long past." Watson took the free chair beside Mycroft Holmes and lit a cigarette from the silver case on a table near by. "I am as well as to be expected. I take it you are not here on a personal call, you have a determined expression on your face." The older man harrumphed and adjusted his bulk in the leather arm chair, "Indeed I am not John, there has been a considerable amount of thefts around the docklands area that has been brought to not only my attention but that of HRH the Prince of Wales also, but my story seems to be falling on deaf ears this morning, it appears Sherlock is in no mood to listen presently." instead of replying Watson just hummed his disapproval and the room fell into an uncomfortable silence, only being broken by Sherlock some minutes later, who turned his head sharply towards the door, listening intently, "Ah, I believe I hear Mrs Hudson's weary tread upon the stairs, and judging by her ritualistic stop on the eighth step, she comes bearing tea. Watson, would you be good enough to get the door?" slowly, he lit his pipe, a thick black cloud of smoke engulfing him as he went back to gazing out the window.

The doctor rolled his eyes and hoisted himself up from his chair and opened the door just as a heavily laden down Mrs Hudson, barrelled her way into the room. "Tea, gentlemen. Doctor, Mr Holmes" She asked, referring to the older Holmes brother, ignoring the detective by the window. "Would you like breakfast? Toast and eggs maybe?" Watson smiled and took the tray from her arms, answering over his shoulder. "That would be splendid Mrs H, thank you. We'll have it up here though I think." the old land lady nodded graciously leaving the room without a word. "Are you aware of the reason my brother is being so complaisant this morning?" Mycroft wheezed, taking the offered cup of tea from John's hand. "He has said barely a word to me since I arrived. Most uncommon, even with his petulant manner." Watson just raised his eyebrows and cast his gaze over to the detective who was still cloaked in a thick haze of smog, eyes still glued to the exterior, "He is in the middle of an extremely delicate case, which appears to have, for now at least, got the better of him." The larger man belted out a loud raucous chortle, "A case that has the better of the great Sherlock Holmes? Is this possible? A case involving a ghost and a deck of playing cards?" Watson gave a small wry smile, trying to forgive Mycroft's insensitive humour, "Uh, no, A case involving my baby sister Bonnie. I trusted him to take her to the opera last night and she vanished. I believe he may be thinking of a way to find her again, before she is no longer living." Mycroft fell silent, his round face turning deathly grey upon hearing the doctor's sad news. "Well that is damned unfortunate. My condolences John, but I'm sure my brother will find a way to prevail. As important as my business may be, I fear yours is far more urgent, so as soon as breakfast is finished I shall be out of your way." Watson just pursed his lips and sipped his tea.

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><p>"Urg … Ow." moaned Bonnie as she clutched her head, her fingernails digging painfully into her scalp. She winced at the stinging, the skin below her eyes tight with leftover salt from her dried tears. "Where am I?" she mused to herself, coughing on the thick layer of yellow clay dust that coated the dirty stone floor, and examining the stained material of her expensive black and white dress, "This dress was expensive, unbelievable." she growled dropping the silk and heaving a sigh. "You still look beautiful, nothing could tarnish your beauty Bonnie … I always thought." came a husky voice from the shadow surrounding the corners of the room. The small dark haired woman sucked in a deep mouthful of air and pulled herself up to stand against the dew drenched wall, her head held high defiantly as she shook the waves of fear that rocked her body away, determined to show her captor that she was confident and calm in the situation. "I'm damn sure muck and grease on my face and my dress will dampen my supposed beauty … and I feel my hair being matted with blood is not helping." She countered, her voice fighting to display her strength. "Oh But my dear girl, how else would I get you away from that detective whose every word both you and your brother hang off." Bonnie huffed loudly and wiped her sweaty palms on the skirts of her ruined dress. "Holmes is a better man than you'll ever be." she hissed, just loud enough for her hidden assailant to hear, his spine straightening suddenly with the spite filled insult. "Well, you better get used to it Miss Watson, as you're going no where … you're mine now, until you see what you've been missing for all these years past, that your heart really belongs to me." Bonnie shook her head defiantly and narrowed her eyes in disdain, "Not in a hundred years" She breathed, digging her fingers into palms so hard drips of blood trailed over her hands.<p>

* * *

><p>"Holmes, its very tedious being in a room with you when not a word has left your lips all day." Watson groaned, folding his paper and narrowing his eyes at the detective, who hadn't moved from his spot by the window. "I am thinking Watson … reviewing the data in my mind."<p>

"hmm have you no leads?" The doctor asked, uneasily rubbing his forehead, a worried expression etched onto his handsome face. His dark haired companion sighed, and closed his eyes in frustration, "Nothing solid, nothing that can lead me to the woman's whereabouts." his voice coming out in almost a whisper. Watson gritted his teeth, at his friends rude referral to his sister, and sipped at his tumbler of brandy. "I'm sure something will come around soon, my friend, don't despair."

A laboured set of footsteps making their way up the stairs, made the two men's attentions turn to the heavy wooden door as it was pushed open by Mrs Hudson, a letter held tightly in her frail hand, "A letter for you Mr Holmes." Watson rose from his seat and accepted the envelope, as his eyes took in the elaborate black scripture on the front, "Holmes!" he exclaimed, an urgent look in his eyes, "This is Bonnie's writing."


	16. Sickening Realisations

**Hello to all my lovely readers who have reviewed, alerted and subscribed to this story, I am truely grateful, and I do apologise for this taking so long. I came to a tad bit of writers block, which is also why I'm afraid this one is a little short. but I promise you, they will get better! please review! xx oh and the poem is by a author called Leo Conway and is called loved the sea. xx  
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Holmes sat up straight in his seat and turned to face his companion, an interested expression wound its way onto his handsome face as the doctor sat opposite him, tearing open the off white envelope and dropping it to the floor as he hastily retrieved the paper from inside. He cleared his throat before reading the letter out loud to the detective.

"Once ago I loved the sea  
>And as I did, it loved me<br>But I found another love for me  
>And she became my bride to be<br>We were as happy as can be  
>Unlike my old love, the sea<br>She was meant for me  
>But she did not like it that sea<br>So she sent a storm for me  
>But got my bride to be<br>I must love the sea  
>Or it will keep coming after me<br>That evil sea  
>She is happy that sea<br>As happy as me  
>When I had my bride to be<br>I'll never be  
>Happy as can be<br>When my bride to be  
>Is with that evil sea"<p>

B xx

Watson scrunched his face up at the poem, "A poem? Why would she send a poem? Why wouldn't she tell us she's okay, or where she is?" he exclaimed loudly.

Holmes turned to face his friend, his eyebrows raised in surprise, "one case involving your sister, and all all I've taught you flies out the window! Do you not think Watson, that if she _could_ have told us where she was outright, she would have."

Watson blushed and hung his head, clearly ashamed that he had jumped over all rational reasoning. Holmes lit his pipe and sucked on the tip gently, his dark eyes clouding over.

"But she has told us where she is" he mused. Turning his attention back out the window to the rain filled streets.

Watson rubbed is tired eyes, and tightened his cravat uncomfortably, "She did? Where?"

"There you go again Watson. Thinking in straight lines. She is somewhere close to the docks." Holmes stood from his chair, bowing his head quickly to make sure he had a tight grip on the unknown object he had been clutching, and made his way to the door of the chaotic living room. Opening the heavy door, he paused and looked at his friend, who was intently studying the letter once more, desperately trying to fathom where Holmes had sprung to his conclusion of her whereabouts. "She repeats the sea, a number of times. The closest place to the sea in our industrious city? The Docks."

The doctor's eyes widened in realisation as he read the poems lines through again.

"Get your over coat and waders Watson. We are headed to the docks." he proclaimed walking out of the room, the door closing with a resounding bang behind him.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Bonnie sighed as she watched the swarms of men, women and children bustling about on the busy dockside below her window. The panes of glass were cloudy with dirt and her exhalation of breath, but she could still make out the occasional face. A young sailor, stood on the gang plank of a ship in full navy uniform and a canvas bag slung over his shoulder was being hugged and kissed goodbye by a weeping older woman in black, she guessed to be his mother, A dirty faced little street girl sat on a barrel, her fragile shoulders shivering in the cold and her wet hair sticking to her face as she held small flowers up to the passers by, her tiny feet were blackened with dirt and looked so sore Bonnie's heart almost broke watching her.

"There is nothing for you out there dear." called the slime laced voice of her captor from the fireside . "Your detective isn't coming for you."

She turned her head to face him sharply, her pretty brown eyes narrowing at him as she stared. "And you know that how? My brother loves me, he wouldn't give up looking for me." _and Holmes, he wouldn't leave me … I hope. _She thought as she turned back to the window, a single tear sliding its way down her pale cheek.

A creek and a heavy pair of footsteps made her shoulders tense as her captor made his way towards her.

"You think that detective will rescue you do you? You think he will find you to mend the hole in his heart? I think you are sorely mistaken Miss Bonnie Watson. I know for a fact an old acquaintance of mine and Mr Holmes is on her way now to see him. And I know, there's no way he'll turn her away." he breathed, his close proximity making the loose hair at her neck stir and stand on end.

A sob caught in her throat as she saw the framed photograph of a beautiful, dark haired woman sitting a table in 221B in her mind, and realised that he was right, she was no contest in his affections between her and the legendary Irene Adler.


	17. Authors Note!

A/N:

To all my lovely readers:

I really want to thank you all so much for your support and love of this Sherlock Holmes story, it means a lot that so many of you like and appreciate it.

Several things have got in the way of this story advancing any more so far (family tragedies and non stop work) but I promise you I will dedicate as much time as I can to updating this story as so many of you have asked me to continue, and I don't want to let you all down!

So stay tuned and I will update as soon as my creative juices allow me! Ha! :)

Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing my story!

xxxx


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